


Dragon's Breath

by CharlotteAshmore



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2270676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteAshmore/pseuds/CharlotteAshmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an ancient scroll bearing Merlin's most precious spell emerges, Belle sees her chance to make a deal with Rumpelstiltskin that even he can't refuse. It will further his goals to cast the Dark Curse, but it will also give him the one thing in the Enchanted Forest he desires above all others...her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is one of those middle-of-the-night-wake-me-up-and-plague-my-sleep kind of things. Once it took root, I couldn’t shake it, so this story was born. This little story takes place while Snow and Charming are trying to take back the kingdom from King George and the Evil Queen…with a lot of help from Rumpelstiltskin. The ‘Dragon’s Breath’ spell was taken from the movie ‘Excalibur’ (WB 1981) which I just had to include in this story bc it was just bloody perfect. I really hope you enjoy this and thank you to my fabulous friend Emilie Brown for the beautiful cover art.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of OUAT or its characters nor do I own any part of the movie ‘Excalibur’ or its characters. This fic was written in fun and with no intention of infringing on any copyrights.
> 
> WARNING: This is an M rated fic and will contain some language and smut. So if that’s not your thing, I will understand if you don’t care to read. Just thought I would warn you.

       Rumpelstiltskin carefully corked the last vial of the potion he’d been brewing for the last twelve hours and placed it in the cabinet.  It wasn’t even an important potion…just a cordial should his little maid fall ill with a cold.  Winter was approaching and he couldn’t have her falling ill.  Who would clean the castle?  Good help was hard to come by nowadays.  He dropped back down on the stool at his worktable and propped his chin in his left hand, drumming the blackened nails of his free one on the scarred oak surface. Oh, who was he kidding? She hadn’t been _just a maid_ to him in months…ever since he’d caught her as she’d fallen from the ladder in the Great Hall, since she’d stopped seeing him as her formidable master…since she’d come back to him after he’d let her go.  Oh, no.  The former high princess of Avonlea was by all intents and purposes now the Lady of the Dark Castle.  Not that he’d ever admit such a thing to his little Belle.  It would simply make her look further behind the mask he wore to see just how utterly lost he was where she was concerned.

       He sighed wearily and scored the tabletop with his nails, thoroughly disgusted with himself.  How the hell had he allowed this to happen?  She was supposed to be the hired help…not even that, really.  She was bound to him, the feared Dark One, his caretaker for as long as he wished to have her.  She was supposed to be someone to care for his home, to provide him with amusement, someone to talk to when the loneliness of his existence became overly unbearable.  She was _not_ supposed to burrow her way behind his carefully constructed facade and into the blackness of his heart, infecting him with her light.  He snarled, she smiled.  He exposed her to his dark humor, she blushed prettily and laughed at his quips.  He raged and threw his tantrums, she arched her perfectly sculpted brows and offered him tea to soothe him.  She was a conundrum…and he was hopelessly in love with her.

       And now he was hiding away from her in his tower laboratory, coward that he was.  What had he been thinking?!  He’d been called away on that deal in Sussex to bargain with that insipid maid for a potion to make her beautiful to win the man of her dreams.  _There was no amount of magic that would’ve helped that one_ , he thought as a violent shudder ran through him.  A wasted trip…or it would have been had he not decided to visit the market.  It was just calling to him from the window of the dressmaker’s shop, the most lovely confection of ivory silk he’d ever seen with a full flowing skirt, a deeply scooped neckline and delicate pink roses with their trailing green vines embroidered on the bodice and hem.  He could picture it so clearly draped over his little Belle’s petite frame, the capped sleeves leaving her smooth ivory arms bare.  He’d imagined what it would feel like if he happened to reach out and brush her exposed arm in passing and it had convinced him that it was time to buy her something besides the sedate work dresses he’d provided for her when she’d come to live with him.  He’d even bought her undergarments, shoes and a hair ribbon to match.

       It wasn’t until he’d returned home that he’d realized his grave error.  He’d never given her a gift before…at least not one that wasn’t borne of necessity.  He’d been planning to leave it for her in the Great Hall for her to find the next morning, it being late when he’d returned.  He had _not_ been expecting to find her sitting before the hearth in her nightclothes, brushing out her long chestnut locks to a brilliant shine, a book and a cooling cup of tea at her side seemingly forgotten.  He’d been frozen to the spot, his mouth going dry, just standing there mesmerized by the sight of her beauty, the clear knowledge that she belonged to him and him alone weighing heavily upon his mind.

       Belle’s sparkling cerulean eyes had been filled with happiness and welcome for him when she turned to acknowledge his presence and he’d continued to stand there for a full minute unsure of what to do or say, the packages in his arms forgotten.  Her lips had turned up into an angelic smile as she inquired, “Did you decide to forgo to deal in favor of doing some shopping?”

       He seemed to come back to himself at the sound of her voice and he’d been able to finally make his feet move towards the table to set down his packages.  “I…ah,” he stammered, his voice even more high-pitched than normal, causing him to clear his throat.  “I took a fancy to something I saw in one of the shops,” he finished lamely, inwardly kicking himself for not coming up with a better excuse for his gift.

       Belle had set the brush down and rose to her feet, pulling the edges of her robe more securely about her.  “Oh?” she asked, her curiosity making her eyes widen with excitement as she moved to stand beside him.

       His thin lips had quirked up on one side, her excitement infectious.  He had waved a hand at the packages in a nonchalant manner as if they were of no importance. “Mhm.  Just a trifle.”  He knew he was prolonging her suspense, but it was worth it to watch her catch her luscious lower lip between her pearly teeth and her expressive eyes dart back and forth between him and the packages as she waited for him to open them.  Her fingers had joined together and twisted about each other as her anxiety grew until finally he’d teased,  “Well, dearie, aren’t you going to open them? They’re for you after all.”

       A squeal of delight, her brightest smile and then she was tearing into the paper and ribbons with zeal.  She’d attacked the largest box containing the dress first and the gasp that fell from her lips made his heart contract in a peculiar way.  Her hands had covered her mouth and she’d turned those bright eyes, shimmering with happy unshed tears up at him, her voice little more than a whisper as she’d asked, “For me?”

       “I don’t see another female in the castle, dearie, and somehow I don’t think it would look quite as nice on me,” he’d snarked, one brow raised condescendingly.

       Instead of taking offense at his sarcasm, she’d snorted and lifted the gown from the box, holding it to her and exclaiming over the softness of the fabric and the expertise of the craftsman who’d brought it into being.  “It’s beautiful, Rumpel,” she’d breathed…and then promptly threw her arms around his neck, the dress crushed between them.

       His eyes had widened and the breath had hitched tightly in his chest, his arms hanging uselessly at his side as he’d felt full-blown panic overtake him.  The simple pleasure of his name, shortened as it was on her sweet lips, was _NOT_ lost on him.  _Oh gods! She’s touching me! She’s touching me!  WILLINGLY touching me!  What is wrong with this girl?  Why isn’t she scared of me?  She’s touching me!!!  What do I do? Do I touch her back? Will she run screaming if I do?_   And then his brain completely ceased to function as her petal soft lips brushed against his cheek and she slowly drew away to settle back onto the balls of her feet.

       The urge to cup her face in his hands, to mold his lips to hers, to partake of her sweet mouth had been overwhelming and he’d found it to be his fondest wish in that moment.  Before he could give in to the desire, he’d stammered an excuse about having work to do and magicked himself to his tower, the last glimpse of her crestfallen expression more painful than if he’d thrown himself on his own dagger.  Would she have been receptive or would she have scorned his shy advances? He couldn’t take the chance that she would reject him. _So now I’m hiding like the weakling I am,_ he thought dejectedly. But what choice did he have? He had to protect himself, protect what was left of his damaged heart.

And eventually, he realized with a sigh, he would have to come out of his tower.  He wouldn’t be able to hide away in here from her forever.  Two days was more than enough.  Now if he could just find the courage to do so.

       He felt a prickle of awareness creep up his spine and he focused his attention on it, stretching out with his heightened senses to locate the disturbance to his peace.  Weeping.  His Belle was weeping, muffled tears for certain, but tears nevertheless.  Was she hurt?  Without a thought to his previous musings, he bounded to his feet and wrenched the door to the tower open and was hurtling down the marble staircase, so intent on vanquishing whatever had caused her distress he didn’t even think to use magic to bring him to her side.  His face fell as he burst through the doors of the Great Hall, ready to defend the woman who’d so thoroughly claimed his heart for her own with every ounce of magic he possessed, to find her weeping… her hand covering her mouth to stifle her sobs…over a _book_.

       Belle dropped the tome in her hands and jumped up from the settee, her eyes wide and startled at his abrupt entrance.  “Oh, Rumpelstiltskin, I…I’m sorry.  I hadn’t realized it was time for your tea.  I’ll…um…I’ll get it now,” she stammered, hurriedly brushing tears from her ashen cheeks and turning on her heel to make her way to the kitchens before he could say a single word.

       Rumpelstiltskin threw out a hand to stop her, his words dying on his lips as she disappeared through the door before he could call her back.  He smacked a palm over his face and raked it all the way down over his chin in vexation.  “Damnation!” he cursed, pacing before the hearth.  He’d barely noticed that she was wearing his gift.  Well of course he’d noticed, he just hadn’t had more than a second to take her in before she’d vanished.

       By the time she’d returned, he was ready to crawl out of his skin in his nervousness.  And just how was he supposed to hide that from her as perceptive as she was, hm?  She set the tea service on the end of the long dining table and immediately set about preparing him a cup of the aromatic brew that she’d perfected to his delight in the past months.  She stirred in three sugar cubes and a slice of lemon before handing it to him and preparing her own with a spoonful of honey and a half of a lemon slice.  Her smile wavered almost imperceptibly as she raised her gaze to his, her eyes red rimmed and slightly puffy.

       His warm amber gaze traveled from the top of her chestnut curls to the toes of her satin slippers which peeked from beneath the hem of her dress, an appreciative smile curling his lips as his thumb toyed along the edge of the chipped cup in his hands.  He wanted so badly to tell her how lovely she looked in her new gown, but the words lodged in his throat and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.  Instead, he forayed into safer waters and asked, “What has you so distressed, dearie?  Burn another pot of water?”

       He turned away from her so she couldn’t see the grimace that crossed his angular features.  His tongue never failed to bedevil him in the girl’s presence and he mentally smacked himself.  He turned back to her once he’d schooled his face back into a bland mask and trusted himself enough to look at her without betraying the roiling emotions in his gut.

       Belle’s smile was indulgent as she met his gaze and moved off to sit on the settee to sip her tea.  He followed after her, drawn to her like a moon to orbit about a planet.  “No, Rumpel, I merely didn’t like the book I was reading,” she said, her voice still raspy from her weeping.

       “Something I might like?” he asked, perching a hip against the arm of the settee on the opposite end from where she sat.  He wanted to sit next to her, to draw her into the circle of his arms and comfort her, but he feared he’d never find the courage to be so bold with her.

       She huffed a laugh and showed him the cover of the book she’d just finished.  “Highly doubtful,” she scoffed.

       “Really, dearie,” he said, perusing the cover with a sneer.  “Where _did_ you find this? ‘The love of Arthur’?  How revolting.  You couldn’t have found that in our library.”

       Belle’s lips parted on a pleased gasp at the use of his _our_ before they turned up into a smile.  “I did indeed find it in our library.  You know I enjoy tales of King Arthur and his knights.  I thought I would enjoy this one as well, but…”

       “Too sappy twoo wuv romantic for you?”

       “Uh…no.”

       “Sentimental?” he asked, his brows drawing together.

       “Rumpel, do you know nothing of Arthur and Guinevere?” she asked dryly, one dark brow perched in query.

       His nose scrunched up as he teasingly asked, “She was the queen, right?”

       “Pfft!” she scoffed, waving the book under his nose as she rose to her feet.  “She was a faithless wretch is what she was!”

       He slid off the arm of the settee to land on the seat in an effort to avoid being hit with her book.  Thankfully, he’d just drained his cup and its contents didn’t end up in his lap.  “How so?” he asked, his voice taking on a deeper timbre as he watched her pace before him, her ire heightening her color and making her eyes flash with an inner fire.  Gods, how he wanted her.  She was nothing like the other royals he’d ever met.  She was intelligent and beautiful and radiated passion from her every pore, be it whether she was speaking of the weather or her favorite book.  She made him want to grab life with both hands and never let go, to jump into an icy fjord and relish the exhilaration of the frigid water, to take a chance.  He was finding more and more that he wanted to take a chance on her…that she would more than be worth the risk.

       “How so, you ask?  You do know the story of how Arthur pulled the sword from the stone, yes?”

       Rumpelstiltskin waved a dismissive hand, trying to concentrate more on her words than her bosom heaving under the strain of her upset.  “Yes, yes, everyone knows that story.”

       “Well when Arthur went to aid Leondegrance, Guinevere’s father, she was so taken by Arthur.  It was supposedly love at first sight.  She was thrilled with the first bloom of love for the new king, ready to commit her heart to him,” she said, casting him a pointed glare to make sure he was paying attention.  “And she did.  I really believe she was in love with him…until Arthur sent Lancelot to escort her to Camelot.  When she set eyes on him, apparently she forgot all about the king in favor of his champion.  What kind of woman does that?!” she fumed. 

       “A typical royal,” he said, rising to pour himself another cup of tea and see what kind of pastries she’d perhaps brought for their enjoyment.  He didn’t see the narrowing of her eyes or the color blooming in her cheeks.  He jumped when she slammed the book forcefully onto the table, causing the china to rattle and shake.

       “Not all of us are like that, Rumpelstiltskin!”

       His eyes widened in alarm, never having seen her display such a marked bout of temper before.  He was quick to reassure her.  “Dearie, I never meant to imply that you—“

       “Of course you didn’t!” she hissed.  “You never imply anything, do you?  Guinevere was flighty and faithless and was clearly ruled by her—“

       “Belle!” he bellowed, cutting her off, afraid of what she was going to say.

       “—lust, rather than her heart.  Arthur loved her and she chose another.  If she was so intent on taking Lancelot to her bed, she shouldn’t have married Arthur and then broken his heart.  He didn’t deserve that.”

       Rumpelstiltskin crossed his arms over his chest and nibbled thoughtfully on the biscuit he’d plucked from the tray.  “It’s just a story, Belle, a legend.  There’s nothing to say it even happened.  Why are you getting so upset?”

       As his words sank in, she lowered her head, realizing she was being silly.  She refused to acknowledge that it affected her not so much because of Guinevere’s faithlessness, but because of her own situation with her sorcerer master.  She was frustrated beyond words with his avoidance of his feelings for her…because she was convinced that there were feelings and not just on her part.  “I’m sorry, Rumpel.  It’s just women like that make it so difficult for the rest of us.  Men see how women can treat others like Guinevere treated Arthur and think the rest of us are like that.  It makes them not want to trust a woman with their heart.”

       He gravitated towards her and she to him until they were a mere foot apart.  Against his will he placed one long finger beneath her chin and gently raised her face to his, his breath warm as it fanned against her face.  Her breath caught and hope took wing in her breast as her eyes searched his face, his eyes so warm, his features softened.  “Anyone to win your heart should consider himself the most fortunate man in the realms, Belle,” he said reverently as his hand splayed over her soft cheek, his smile gentle yet sad, knowing that he’d never be so lucky as to be that man.  Man.  A man is what she deserved, not a monster.

       And then she surprised him as she leaned into his tentative touch and pressed her petal soft lips to his palm, her eyes never leaving his, the pupils dilating with unmistakable desire.  “What if—“

       His head jerked up as a pounding on the castle doors broke the spell they’d found themselves under and she quickly drew away from him, startled by the intrusion.

       “Would you…ah…would you like me to get that?” she asked, her voice breathy as she fought to calm her thundering heart and quell the disappointment caused by the interruption.

       His eyes narrowed menacingly at the double doors that led into the foyer, but his tone was gentle as he directed his next words to her.  “No, dearie, sit and enjoy your tea.  I will get rid of the interlopers.  You may depend upon that,” he said, stalking off towards the door.

       “No more snails, please, Rumpel. The slime is just impossible to scrub from the rugs,” she called dryly from behind him as she took her tea and settled once more on the settee.

       He snorted as the double doors opened into the foyer, Belle’s quip having taken the edge off of his anger…just a bit…leaving him in a better frame of mind to deal with his unwanted guests.  He stopped next to the round table set in the middle of the foyer and flicked a lazy hand at the entry doors, willing them to open.  He rolled his eyes as Prince James…David…shepherd…aw hell, whatever it was he was calling himself this week, stepped over the threshold.

       “Ah, shepherd, the bane of my existence.  My life was peaceful before I made that last deal with George.  I’m thinking I should have left your sorry arse on the farm with your mother,” Rumpelstiltskin lamented, one brow raised and his arms crossed over his chest.

       The princeling, dubbed Charming by his lovely raven-haired princess Snow White, held up a hand in a gesture of surrender, praying that the wily sorcerer wouldn’t hex him before he could explain the reason for his visit.  “Just hear me out.”

       Rumpelstiltskin narrowed his eyes on the man, his lip curling in disgust.  “The last I heard, you and your princess were _taking back the kingdom_ ,” he trilled, flourishing his hand dramatically as he paced around the table to face Charming, “from George and Regina.  If you’re here to ask for help, I’ve got two words for you…not interested.”

       Charming grinned, showing nearly all his teeth, and held out a small wooden box inlaid with runes.  “I think this might change your mind.”

       The point between the sorcerer’s eyes crinkled slightly as he eyed the box with interest, and the fingers of his right hand rubbed against his thumb.  “Really, dearie?” he asked, trying for a casual tone to hide his piqued interest.  “What could you possibly have that would interest me?”

       Charming grin grew, convinced he had the imp exactly where he wanted him…firmly on his side with the potential deal.  “Ancient scrolls found in a lost cavern beneath the dwarf mines.”

       Rumpelstiltskin felt a faint shimmer of power trickle down his spine, refusing to believe what the clueless shepherd turned prince held in his hands.  “Come!” he snapped, pivoting on his heel and re-entering the Great Hall, Charming on his heels.

       Charming was drawn up short as his eyes fell on Belle.  “Oh, hello, milady,” he said, judging from her carriage and dress that she was indeed a well-bred lady.

       “Hello,” Belle said, a demure smile upon her lips as she rose from her seat and bobbed a quick curtsey.  She took Rumpelstiltskin’s hand as he reached her side, her smile turning warm.  “I suppose our tea time is to be cut short?”

       The impish pitch to his voice gentled into the deep rich timbre he seemed to use only in her presence as he said, “I’m sorry, dearie, but I need to tend to a spot of business.  Would you leave us for a bit?” he asked, his thumb rubbing soothing little circles across the back of her hand.

       Belle glanced over at Charming uncertainly and then back at Rumpelstiltskin.  “Would you like me to bring a fresh pot of tea for your guest?”

       “That won’t be necessary.  He won’t be staying,” he said, one side of his mouth curving into a familiar smirk.

       The only thing that betrayed her amusement was the mirthful gleam in her cerulean eyes.  She nodded and turned to leave, his eyes following her until she’d left the room and disappeared into the corridor leading to the kitchen.  She might not make tea for the princeling, but he knew she’d have a fresh pot for them to share after the prince’s departure.  He was snapped out of his reverie by Charming’s rather loud throat clearing, so he turned finally to give the man his full attention.

       “Who is she?” Charming asked, his eyes resting on the door Belle had disappeared behind.

       The imp’s eyes narrowed on the man as he hissed, “Never you mind who she is.  She is my guest…my very willing guest…and in no need of rescuing.  So rid your head of such thoughts right now, dearie.”

       “Right,” Charming said, not willing to get on the Dark One’s bad side over the pretty maiden…if she was still a maiden, he thought with a shudder…especially when she looked to be more than comfortable in Rumpelstiltskin’s presence.  “So,” he began, setting the box on the long dining table for the imp’s perusal.  “Our advisors can’t seem to make any sense of the box or its contents.  You were the most logical choice to help us find answers.  We’re hoping it might be something that can help us bring an end to the conflict.  Even Blue wasn’t able to tell us anything useful.”

       Rumpelstiltskin snorted.  “Of course not,” he said, brushing his fingers over the runes carved into the lid of the cedar box.  “This predates even her.”

       “And you?”

       “Oh, I can read it,” he murmured reverently more to himself than to the princeling, his nail tracing over the symbol for _dragon_.  “This belonged to Merlin.  It’s been lost for centuries, thought to have been lost when he met his end at Morganna’s hands.  It shouldn’t even be in this realm.  No wonder Morganna was never able to find it.”

       “But _what_ is it? Could it help our cause?” Charming asked, a puzzled frown marring his perfect features.

       Rumpelstiltskin ignored him, still fighting with his disbelief that he actually held something belonging to the greatest sorcerer to have ever lived.  He opened the box, his eyes widening as he took in the scroll within.  He lifted it out and unrolled it, laying it flat against the table, his amber eyes flickering swiftly over the words.  “The Charm of Making…”

       “The charm of what?” Charming asked, perching a hip against the table and looking over the Dark One’s shoulder.

       Rumpelstiltskin’s expression was pained as he looked at Charming.  “Gods bones, shepherd! Do you know nothing about Merlin and Arthur and…no I suppose you don’t,” he said, his tone laced with disgust.  “And I don’t have the time or inclination to educate you.  My Belle would no doubt enjoy sitting down with you and explaining since she’s well versed on the subject, but well…you can forget that.”  There was no way he would punish his little love by exposing her to the dull-witted consort of Snow White.  They’d be here all week.  “This spell will ensure a successful outcome of anything the caster desires.”  He voice dropped to barely more than a whisper.  “It can call forth the Dragon’s Breath.  To wield that kind of power…”

       “Could you cast it?”

       “No.”

       “No? Just no? You’re the Dark One,” Charming said in exasperation, raking a hand through his short-cropped hair. “I didn’t think anything was beyond your power.”

       Rumpelstiltskin waved his hand dismissively.  “I didn’t say it was beyond my power, dearie.  It’s that I _choose_ not to cast it.  It’s too dangerous.”

       “But—“

       The sorcerer pointed a long finger at Charming and scowled.  “When Merlin cast the Dragon’s Breath…or the Charm of Making if you will…so that Uther could lie with Igrayne to beget Arthur, it took him nine moons to recover!  Do you think I would leave myself vulnerable for that long?”

       “But if it could rid us all of Regina and George’s tyranny and bring peace to the kingdom—“ Charming protested.

       “Out of the question.  This isn’t just about me.  I would need Belle to assist me and there is no way I would expose her to that much magic, that much power.  She could be harmed and I will _not_ risk her,” he growled through clenched teeth, his eyes darkening with his ire.

       Charming’s eyes widened incredulously, never having seen the mage so passionate over another person before, realization dawning in his blue eyes.  “You love her!”

       Rumpelstiltskin’s lips curled back over his ruined teeth as he glared at the princeling.  “Never mind my affairs, shepherd.  Just know that I will _not_ endanger my Belle and I cannot cast it without her.  So run on along now back to your princess and tell her you’ve failed.”

       “Rumpelstiltskin.”

       The imp whirled around, the tension in his shoulders palpable as his gaze met Belle’s.  “Belle…”

       “Please forgive me for interrupting, but may I please speak with you for just a moment?” she asked as respectfully as possible.  She wanted to scold him for telling the prince no, but she didn’t want to get into a full blown argument in the prince’s presence.

       Without a word to Charming, Rumpelstiltskin crossed the room to stand before her.  “You were listening at the door again, weren’t you?” he asked, one dark brow raised in suspicion.

       She ducked her head, confirmation that she had indeed been eavesdropping.  “Your voice carries.”

       “Of course it does,” he said dryly, smirking down at her.  “I suppose you heard everything we were discussing?”  He paled beneath the green gold hue of his skin, praying that she hadn’t heard Charming’s remark about him being in love with her.

       Belle nodded, her teeth worrying her lower lip.  “You should do it…cast the spell, I mean.”

       “Belle, no, I can’t,” he protested, refusing to argue with her.  Too bad she wasn’t of the same opinion.

       “Rumpel, you can’t be selfish about this!” she hissed in a furious whisper, her eyes pleading.  “This could benefit the entire kingdom.  You would be helping, showing everyone that you aren’t as cold-hearted as people say.” She stepped closer to him, closing the distance until the bodice of her dress brushed against his brocade vest.  She raised her hand and rested it on his chest, over his heart.  “Please, Rumpel.  Let them see what I see.”

       He felt as though he were drifting along in a fog, only the sound of her voice anchoring him in reality as he covered her hand with his and held it tightly to his chest, the heat of her palm seeping through his clothes and warming his cold heart.  “What do you see, Belle?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper as his gaze settled on her lips.

       “I see a good man, one who hides his true self behind the mask of the Dark One.  You need to do this, Rumpel,” she replied, raising her other hand to brush the hair away from his eyes where it had fallen.  He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, seeking more of her warmth and letting it wrap around his very soul.  “Please?”

       “I can’t take the chance that you’ll be hurt by this, Belle.  I won’t,” he said, brushing a curl over her shoulder, his gaze sliding away from hers so he didn’t have to see the disappointment in her eyes.

       Belle sighed wearily, cursing his stubbornness. “This should be my choice and I want to do this.  I want to help.”

       The muscle twitched in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.  “No, you want to be the bloody hero!  That’s what this is all about.  You think this will be an adventure and you will be able to save everyone.  This is too dangerous and I won’t let you walk blindly into it and—“

       “It’s my fate, Rumpelstiltskin!  How dare you think me some silly girl who doesn’t have a rational thought in my head?  You don’t own me anymore!” she fumed, her voice rising.

       “I didn’t say you were a silly girl,” he said in his own defense.  Although he couldn’t argue with the fact that their deal was long since over…had been since he’d sent her to town with no expectations of her return.

       “Then stop treating me like one!” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

       “I’m sorry,” they both said in unison.  Belle blushed, Rumpelstiltskin snapped his jaw shut and Charming snickered.  The mage glared over at the princeling, who promptly turned his back and hoped he would be walking away from this encounter instead of slithering home on his belly.

       Belle’s eyes brightened and a clever smile blossomed on her rosebud mouth.  “Let’s look at this rationally.  _Why_ would I be in danger?  You’ve never failed to protect me before, so why would this be any different?”

       He smacked a palm to his brow and dragged it wearily down his face. _Gods! She’s now going to logic me to death!!_   “I could lose myself in the spell and the Dark One could gain control.  I do NOT trust that demon…in full control of my body…anywhere near you.  That should be enough.”

       “You wouldn’t harm me, Rumpel,” she insisted, her faith in him unwavering.  “Try again.  I refuse to give up until you give me a valid reason—“

       “That bloody well was a valid reason!”

       “—that I can accept.”

       “I’ll need your blood.  You, being the closest to me…I mean…you live with me, after all and…uh…you know what I mean!” he stammered, hating the fact that she was the only person he knew who could render him tongue-tied.  “And if the spell drains me of my power I won’t be able to protect you.”

       “Which means I need to be there to protect _you_ ,” she said, smiling smugly up at him.

       “The point of this conversation is moot, because we’re not doing it,” he argued.  “As long as you live in the Dark Castle under my protection, you will bend to my will and trust that I have your best interests at heart.”

       “Fine!” Belle stated, raising her stubborn chin and striding off towards the double doors leading out into the foyer so she could go upstairs to her room.

       “Where are you going?” he asked, his brow furrowing in consternation.

       “To pack.”

       “WHAT?!”

       Belle cast him an irate glare over her shoulder, but she didn’t stop.  “I’m certain the prince will offer me sanctuary in his home until I can contact my papa.  And while I’m there I’m sure he and his princess will allow me to do whatever I’m able to assist them in their war effort.”

       “Belle!” the mage roared as she disappeared through the door.  He ignored the chortling prince and stormed off after her.  He had to use magic to catch her before she gained the staircase, poofing into her path and catching her by her upper arms as she lost her footing and stumbled into him. “Don’t leave,” he whispered, pain at the thought of her leaving, tearing at his heart and showing clearly in his tone.

       “Is there nothing we can do? They need you, Rumpel,” she said, bracing her hands on his chest to maintain her balance, but making no effort to regain the distance between them, content to remain in his embrace.  “We can do this together, Rumpel. We can protect one another.”

       He ducked his head, his hair falling into his eyes.  “You’re the only woman in seven realms that would ever _want_ to protect me, dearie,” he said, the walls around his heart crumbling ever further.

       Her hands lifted from his chest to cradle his face.  “I care about you,” she whispered, trying to convey her feelings without overwhelming him with the true extent of what dwelled within her heart.

       Rumpelstiltskin huffed a rueful laugh.  “Pretty words.”

       “Do you really think I would have come back to you if I didn’t care?” she asked, her heart aching for the damaged, wounded man that lived behind the mask of the Dark One, the man that couldn’t see his own worth and refused to believe that someone could love him.

       “You didn’t have anywhere to go?”

       “Rumpel…” she sighed, rolling her eyes.

       “You forgot your favorite pair of heels?”

       She smacked him on the arm.  “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

       “You like me when I tease you,” he said with a giggle.  “But we’re still not doing the spell.”

       Belle counted to ten to quell her fiery temper and tried to think of something…anything…that would convince him to help the royals.  He had turned away from her, had already begun to walk back in the direction of the Great Hall to tell the prince to be on his way when her voice stopped him cold in his tracks.

       “Make a deal with me!”

       A shiver of anticipation raised the fine hairs on the back of his neck as he turned back to face her, his fingers twitching nervously at his side.  “A deal?  And what could you have that I want, dearie?  I already know what you want…what is it you think I want?”

       “Me…forever,” she said softly, steadily meeting his gaze with not a trace of fear in her eyes.

       He swallowed around the lump that formed in his throat as the ramifications of her simple statement slammed into him.  “You shouldn’t leave yourself so open to…interpretation.  It will get you in trouble someday.  Besides, we’ve already visited that deal.  Who’s to say I want to make it again?”

       Belle closed the distance between them again and splayed her hands open on his chest, the wild thrumming of his heart beneath her hand all the answer she needed.  “Because you care for me just as deeply as I care for you, Rumpelstiltskin,” she said, confidence coloring her tone.  “If you agree to this deal, you will have me forever…all of me, heart, mind, body and soul.  I will be yours…forever.”

       He had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from jumping onto that deal with both feet.  “Why?  Why would you want to bind yourself to me?”

       “Hold up your end of the deal and you can see for yourself.  It won’t be the first time I’ve allowed you to invade my thoughts and feelings.  It’s the only way you will be able to see for yourself anyway.  Now, do we have a deal?” she asked, her nails grazing his chest lightly where it was bared by the deep vee of his silk shirt.

       He stepped away from her and drew a deep cleansing breath to clear his head.  The minx had the power to sap his will away from him and have him lay the world at her feet…without his dagger coming anywhere into play.  He loved her…even if he hadn’t professed his feelings to her…and he had an overwhelming desire to please her.  But were the risks worth the price of the magic involved? Were they worth the ultimate prize of having her at his side forever?  In his heart and life and…bed?

       He had to try once more to dissuade her from such folly.  He stalked around her, a predator in the truest sense.  His hands skimmed lightly over her waist before hauling her back roughly against his chest.  Though the action startled a gasp from her, she showed no fear and no disgust, confident that he’d never hurt her.  She wrapped her arms over the tops of his and pressed farther back into his embrace

His breath was hot against her ear, his lips trailing over the shell as he whispered, “You would give yourself to a beast, Belle?  You have to be absolutely certain.  Forever is a long time to share my bed.”

Heat pooled low in her belly and it was all she could do to remain still in his arms, to stop herself from turning in his embrace and kissing him senseless.  She turned her gaze up to his, inwardly cringing at the fear of rejection she read so clearly in his warm amber eyes.  “Yes,” she said simply.  “Yours.”

He searched her face for any sign of treachery, his brow furrowing with bewilderment when he found none.

“Shall I sign a contract?” she asked when the silence became more than she could bear.

His tongue snaked out to wet his parched lips as he allowed her to turn in his arms, finding himself unable to let her go.  “No, no contract.  We’ll do as we did before and have a verbal agreement.”

“Seems like a mighty important deal to seal with a handshake, don’t you think?” she asked, a rosy blush rising to stain the apples of her cheeks.

His grin was positively wicked and filled with promise as he lowered his head, his lips almost brushing hers.  “How about we seal this one with a kiss?  The first of many?” he asked, leaving the final decision in her hands.

Her hands slid slowly into his hair, her fingers twining themselves through his soft curls, and closed the distance separating them, capturing his lower lip between her own.  Bliss…pure unadulterated bliss…was the only word she could think of to describe the feeling of his lips pressed so sweetly to hers and even that didn’t seem to even come close to what she was feeling.  His hands moved from her hips, one to wrap firmly around her waist, the other sliding up the smooth expanse of her back to rest at her nape, holding her still as he took control of the kiss, his tongue sliding sensuously along her bottom lip.  She opened for him, gasping in surprise…no one had ever told her THAT…and then melting into him, fire igniting in her blood as he explored every crevice within.

She tugged painfully on his hair as she sought to get closer to him and he swallowed down her soft moan before recalling they weren’t alone in the castle and settled for a few more sipping kisses before drawing back to look down into her passion-darkened eyes.  He pressed his brow to hers, willing his heart to slow to a more manageable rhythm before trusting himself to speak.  Still he sought her reassurance.  “Belle, are you sure?”

“Yes, Rumpel, I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life…I want you, only you,” she vowed.

“Then I do believe the deal is struck.  And should we survive this…”

“Stop being a pessimist!” she scolded.  “We’re going to be fine and the kingdom will find peace.”

He offered her his arm.  “Come, love, let’s tell the shepherd what he wants to hear.  Tomorrow night is the full moon and would be perfect to work our magic.  We’ve much to do to prepare, and we might as well get started.”


	2. Chapter 2

       Belle couldn’t hide the smile that nearly split her face in two.  He’d kissed her!  Yes it had been to seal the newest deal between them, but it had been a kiss regardless.  And what a kiss it had been, she thought, feeling the heat rise steadily up her neck and the little tingles along her nerve endings brought on from the memory.  They’d been dancing around their feelings for months…Rumpelstiltskin in complete denial that he even had any and her afraid to do anything to disturb the fragile friendship they had between them.  If she’d but known that he would be so receptive to her…well, she would have suggested a new deal at the very least.  She loved him with so much of her heart there was no room left for protests…his to be specific.  He’d been hurt too much in the past to take her at her word.  Just because he hadn’t confided in her, she could tell.  And it had to have been something horrible to scar him so deeply.  She would have to show him in small ways, over time, the true depth of her feelings and then only if he failed to _see_ what was in her heart when he claimed his price in their deal.  She was actually quite looking forward to that.  Maybe then he would stop letting panic overtake him every time she touched him.  If she was to share his bed, she thought, her blush deepening, that could be quite awkward.  Yes, he’d definitely have to get over that little fear of his.

       “Belle, dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin said, drawing her from her reverie as he led her to stand before the prince.  “May I introduce you to James…er, David…”

       “Well, which is it? James or David?” she asked.

       Charming stepped forward and bowed to her, taking her hand and dropping a kiss to her knuckles, his smile bright as he ignored the slight growl coming from the imp.  “My fiancé calls me Charming if that makes it easier, milady.”

       Rumpelstiltskin snatched Belle’s hand away from Charming as Belle raised a dubious brow.  “Is he serious?” she asked.

       “I’m afraid so, dearie,” he replied.  He turned back to the prince, his expression warning to keep his hands to himself.  “Shepherd, _my_ lady Belle of the Dark Castle formerly high princess of Avonlea.”

       “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Belle,” Charming said solicitously.

       “Belle has convinced me that we should help you,” Rumpelstiltskin said, irritably.  “And since she will be paying the price of the magic I will be casting, it is she you will be indebted to.”  Belle opened her mouth to protest and the imp was quick to gently slap a hand over her lips.  “Do NOT say it!”

       “Say what?” Charming asked, his brow furrowed in a puzzled frown.

       “If I know her…and I assure you I do…she was going to say,” his voice reached a new level of shrillness, “’oh that’s not necessary’.”  Belle elbowed him in the ribs, gaining her release. 

       She glared at him through narrowed eyes.  “I do NOT sound like that!”

       “All magic comes with a price, dearie.  I don’t want you waiving the fees.”  He danced out of her reach and moved to the table to study the list of ingredients and supplies he’d need for the spell.

       Charming took the opportunity to get to know the Dark One’s lady, following her over to the settee and sitting beside her.  “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you come to…ah…be living here?”

       Belle folded her hands in her lap and met the prince’s gaze with a straightforward one of her own.  “He made a deal with me, naturally.  Rumpel saved my kingdom from the ogres and I came to live with him as his caretaker.”

       Charming gaped at her and Belle was reminded of Gaston and that clueless expression he sometimes wore when she tried to have a conversation with him about literature or politics.  “Caretaker?” he asked, looking between her and the Dark One.

       “Of course. What did you think?”

       Rumpelstiltskin snorted as he perused the list.  “Oh, I can assure you it was nothing pleasant, dear,” he said, his eyes shooting daggers at the self-righteous prince.

       Belle tsked as she turned back to Charming.  “Shame on you, to think the worst of him.  He doesn’t have to help you with your little problem, you know.  Are you always so quick to judge?”  She rose to her feet and moved to stand beside the sorcerer, whispering in his ear loud enough for Charming to hear.  “I don’t think I like him, Rumpel.”

       Charming bounded to his feet, a shameful blush tinging his cheeks.  “I meant no offense, milady.”

       Belle ignored him and Rumpelstiltskin smirked with smug satisfaction.  “Shall I go start dinner?  I’m not overly fond of remaining in the hall to make small talk with your guest.”

       Rumpelstiltskin giggled as he took in the prince’s crestfallen expression, but his lips were curved in a warm smile as he gazed at Belle.  “No, dearie, I’m afraid I need to visit the apothecary if we’re to do this tomorrow.  If you like we can have dinner at the inn?”

       Belle smiled softly up at him.  “Yes, I would like that very much.  Shall I fetch my cloak?”

       “Please, and mine as well if you will?”

       Belle nodded and then cast a disdainful glance in the prince’s direction.  “Your highness,” she said coldly, her manners so inbred in her she couldn’t just leave the room without acknowledging the royal, and then swept from the room.

       “I didn’t mean to offend her,” Charming said, sighing and raking a hand through his hair.  “She’s quite defensive of you.”

       Rumpelstiltskin shrugged and shook his head at the prince.  Charming was famous for stating the obvious.  “Belle sees something in me that others don’t.  Don’t try to figure her out; we don’t have that much time.”

       “So, is there anything I can do?” Charming asked, gesturing to the scroll and ignoring the imp’s cutting remark.

       “As a matter of fact, yes.  I will need you to clear out a room in the dungeon of your castle.”  Thankfully, the White forces had been able to lay claim to George’s castle on the lake while the king had been on the battlefield.  Snow and Red had pulled that coup, much to Charming’s surprise.  But then King George had never been the most brilliant strategist.  “Do you have one with windows?”

       “There’s bars on them, but yes I think we do,” Charming murmured as he delved into the few memories he had of the lower levels.

       “Yes, Genius, I would suppose so.  Otherwise, I would expect your prisoners wouldn’t remain your guests for long,” Rumpelstiltskin said dryly, rolling his eyes.  “Regardless, I need you to clear the room; have your people scrub it from top to bottom. I want no contaminants that might render the spell useless.  And I need it done by the time the moon reaches its zenith tomorrow evening.”

       “Anything else?”

       “No. Run along and prepare for our arrival.  Gather your forces and prepare to do what you do best…”

       Charming’s brows drew together over his clear blue eyes. “What’s that?”

       An impish giggle sounded in the Great Hall as the mage pointed one long finger at the shepherd-turned-prince.  “You know, dearie, I’m still trying to figure that one out myself.”

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

       Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes widened as Belle rose from her seat and swiftly planted herself on the cushioned bench next to him.  “What are you doing?” he asked in alarm as she smoothed her skirts and pulled the carriage blanket across their laps before casting a gamine-like grin in his direction.  The late summer weather so far up in the mountains as they were seemed more like late autumn and the added warmth of the blanket was a welcome comfort.  Her hip pressed so intimately next to his, however; was not.

       They were trundling down the mountain pass on their way to the village, the carriage pulled by a pair of matched grays Belle had dubbed Demon and Devil…names she’d chosen to tease her formidable master when she’d first come to live at the Dark Castle and discovered that the Dark One hadn’t bothered to name the beasts.  All living creatures were deserving of a name, she’d reasoned.  She arched a perfectly plucked brow at him, her smile never faltering.  “I was cold,” she lied, using the excuse to curl up next to him.  “I didn’t think you would mind.”

       “Um…no, no…course not,” he stammered, reaching up to adjust his cravat to stop it from choking him only to remember he wasn’t wearing one.  It didn’t help that he couldn’t seem to get that kiss they’d shared out of his mind.  He wanted so badly to do it again, but couldn’t screw up the courage to try.  What if it had only been to seal the bargain between them, he thought morosely, turning his gaze to the passing scenery.  What if she _never_ had any desire to kiss him again?  She could have been thinking of someone else when she’d been kissing him.  Her eyes had been closed, so it was entirely possible.

       Her quiet statement startled him out of his thoughts and his gaze swung down to meet hers, her face entirely too close to his for him to feel comfortable.  “Taking the carriage is much nicer than walking, don’t you think?” she asked, peeking up at him from beneath her long lashes.  “The time you sent me into the village was a nice walk, don’t get me wrong, but I had blisters for a week because of those shoes.”

       The unease caused by her close proximity drained away as he focused on what she’d said.  “What do you mean you had blisters? Why didn’t you tell me?  I could have healed your feet, Belle.”

       She lifted her hand and ran her fingertips over the wrinkles his frown made on his brow, biting down on her lip as he captured her hand and held it in his own for a moment before returning it to her lap.  _What is it with her always touching me now?  How can she be so comfortable touching a beast? Is it because of the deal she made with me?_ He shook his head to clear it.

       Belle watched the range of emotions that crossed his weathered features and sighed.  She wondered how long it would take for him to accept her innocent little touches.  She’d always been a rather tactile person and now that he’d let her in…even if it was just one foot in the door of his heart…she wasn’t going to shy away from him any longer.  “It was nothing, just a few blisters.  They healed on their own.”

       “They could have become infected.”

       “But they didn’t.”

       “They could have.”

       “They didn’t.”

       “Belle!”

       She raised a brow at him, trying to make him see that he was being silly.  “Rumpel, are we really arguing about my shoes?”

       “No, technically we’re arguing about your feet.”

       “Why?” she asked reasonably, wanting to know what was really bothering him.  “This was months ago.”

       He looked down at his hands folded atop the blanket in his lap, his hair falling forward to conceal his eyes and the shame hidden within.  “I have been lax when it comes to your needs.  I should have provided better for you.”

       Belle pulled his hand into her lap and twined her fingers with his, admiring the contrast between them.  She held her silence for just a moment, trying to gather her thoughts.  “You’ve always provided everything I need, Rumpel.  My shoes were just fine for my work in the castle and,” she held up her hand to forestall his protests, “I wasn’t allowed outdoors, so why would I need sturdier footwear?  Besides, you weren’t exactly expecting me to return.”

       It was true, he’d sent her away with no expectations of her return and to this day it plagued him as to why she had.  He’d never asked her in all the months that had followed and his curiosity was nearly unbearable.  In that moment, he forgot his fear, his doubts and the possible rejection he’d receive at her hands and turned to face her, cupping her face in his palms.  His eyes were wide as he searched her face, hoping that he’d be able to glean the answers from her open expression so he wouldn’t have to put voice to his question.  But it was not to be and he’d have to ask.

       “Why did you come back?” he asked, his voice no more than a whisper, all traces of the infamous Dark One absent in the husky timbre.

       Belle forgot to breathe as his callused fingers brushed softly over her cheeks, wishing with all she was that he’d close the distance between them and kiss her again, but he held her in check, refusing to let that small gap be breached by either of them.  Unable to have what she wanted, she leaned into his right hand, closing her eyes and reveling in the pleasure of his touch.  She lifted her hands and placed them over his where they rested against her face, not wanting his insecurities to resurface and have him pull away from her…not when he was finally touching her without her having made the first move.

       “I-I can’t tell you,” she began, her nails digging into his hands as he tried to move away from her, refusing to let him retreat.  “No, Rumpel, I’m not rejecting you,” she murmured, scooting closer to him on the padded carriage seat so the heat of her thigh pressed into his.  “I just don’t think you are ready to hear it.  After the spell, when you claim your price and can see into my heart…then all will be clear to you and you will accept my words without fear and without any doubt.  Won’t you please, just this once, trust me?”

       He closed his eyes for a moment and clenched his teeth so hard he felt they were in danger or cracking as he fought against the little voice in the back of his mind screaming that no woman was ever to be trusted, that any woman fool enough to become involved with him only wanted what he could give them…that he wasn’t good enough to deserve Belle’s love.

       Rumpelstiltskin rested his brow to hers, removing his hands from her face, trailing them lightly over the rapidly beating pulse point beneath her jaw to then settle them on her shoulders, giving her ample opportunity to pull away from him.  “That wasn’t part of our deal…”

       She let her lids fall closed over her eyes, fighting back the stinging of unshed tears.  “It’s alright, Rumpel, I understand.”

       “…but I _will_ try…for you, Belle.”  His thumb brushed away the tear that escaped her closed lid and he pulled her to lie against his chest, tucking her head beneath his chin.  They rode in silence the last two miles to the village, enjoying the closeness of their embrace without unnecessary chatter getting in the way, both of them lost in their own thoughts of the future.  They had promised one another forever.  There would be more than enough time to voice their fears, their hopes and their dreams in the months to come. 

       When they arrived at the village at the bottom of the mountain, he hopped down and let down the step to assist her from the conveyance, smiling as she slid her hand into his, her palm warm against his own and the light touch sending tingles of awareness up his arm.  He settled her hand in the crook of his arm and set off down the main cobbled path through the village, ignoring the many stares from the townsfolk. 

       Belle’s brows lifted as they passed the apothecary.  “I thought the whole reason for this trip was to visit the apothecary, Rumpel.”

       “Oh, and I shall, dearie, but first…” He stopped before a shop window and flourished a hand.  “I think first we should see to what _you_ need.”

       Belle looked longingly at the lovely teal gown displayed in the window of the dressmaker’s shop, but shook her head.  “I don’t need new clothes.  And that is much too fine to wear while I’m scrubbing the floors.”

       “And as I’ve told you more than once in the last several months, you are no longer my caretaker, but my companion.  You aren’t required to clean my home any longer.” He tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth and laid a finger to her lips when she opened her mouth to protest.  “No arguments, dear.  The new deal has elevated your status once again…this time to the Lady of the Dark Castle.  I will not have you carrying about dressed in rags.  I have more respect for you than that.”

       Belle huffed indignantly.  “I have _never_ run about in rags and you know it.”

       “Regardless…new clothes!” he said happily, opening the door to the shop and ushering her inside.

       Belle bit down on her lip to hide her pleased smile.  She knew by now that she could protest until the sky turned green and it would do her no good.  He would do what he liked and she’d just have to be happy with the results.  Rumpelstiltskin stepped up to the counter and let his palm fall against the bell, keeping Belle’s hand captive in his left.  The shop owner, a diminutive woman with ash blond hair and a plump frame stepped from the back and blanched, her pale blue eyes widening in alarm.

       “M-M-Milord!  W-What brings you here t-today?”

       The sorcerer arched a brow at the woman and tossed a pouch of gold coins onto the counter.  “Good day, Mrs. Hanson,” he said pleasantly, trying to be on his best behavior with Belle there at his side.  “I wish you to help my lady choose a new wardrobe.  Dresses, underthings, accessories, shoes…whatever she may desire.  Preferably something you have readily made already.”

       The woman’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates at the coins that had spilled out over the counter.  It would easily feed her children for the next six months and she’d be hard pressed to refuse no matter how distasteful she found her customer.  She rushed around to the front of the counter, the tape measure swinging about her neck, to greet the fine lady that accompanied the Dark One.

       “Milady, please come with me.  I have several things that you might find to your liking…”

       Belle turned to the imp and laid her hand on his arm.  “Rumpel, really, this isn’t necessary,” she protested.

       The amber of his eyes darkened as he gazed down at her and brushed a stray curl behind her ear, his voice losing all trace of the Dark One.  “And if I wish it, my Belle?  Would you deny me such a small favor?” he asked, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly parched lips.  “Would you deny me the pleasure of seeing to your comfort?”

       Belle gave him a sideways glance which clearly stated that she wasn’t buying anything he was selling.  “You are such a tease, Rumpel.  Very well,” she agreed with a grudging smile.  “If you insist.”

       “I’ll leave you to it then, dearie.  I have some purchases of my own to make, but I will return for you in a while.”  He hesitated only a moment before he pressed a light kiss to her brow and quickly exited the shop.  Belle sighed sadly.  At least he was trying, but how long would it take him to completely let her in?  She turned to the woman waiting patiently and smiled, following her into the back of the shop to begin her fitting.

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

       Belle was exhausted by the time Rumpelstiltskin had come to fetch her from the dress shop, but she now had four new day dresses, two formal gowns Mrs. Hanson had encouraged her to purchase, three night gowns, undergarments, shoes, stockings, laces and ribbons and numerous other things the woman insisted she would need.  Rumpelstiltskin had been pleased by the amount of wrapped packages he’d sent off to the Dark Castle with a wave of his elegant hand.

       Now they were seated in a secluded corner of the common room of the only inn the village boasted, waiting for their barmaid to bring their dinner.  She hid a yawn behind her hand before asking, “Were you able to procure what we need for the spell from the apothecary?”

       “Yes. I just have to pack everything together.  You might want to pack most of what you bought today to bring with us.  I don’t know how the spell is going to affect me and it’s possible we may have to remain with Snow and Charming for a while.  I don’t want you to be without the necessities,” he said, sitting back in his chair as the barmaid placed a basket of bread and two steaming bowls of lamb stew on the table before them.  He slipped several gold pieces onto the tray she carried and she scurried off hurriedly, hoping they wouldn’t need anything else for the remainder of the evening.

       Belle frowned into her stew worriedly.  “What exactly could happen to you…if you had to make a calculated guess, I mean?  Could it incapacitate you as badly as it did Merlin when he cast it for King Uther?”

       He watched her curiously as he slowly chewed and swallowed.  His voice was low, to avoid being overheard or just because he couldn’t help but show a bit of his true self to her, he wasn’t certain.  “The worst thing I can imagine happening would be the Dark One gaining complete control of me.  You wouldn’t like that, I fear.  He’s not quite as amiable as I am, dearie.  Or I could sleep indefinitely, simply never wake.  Because I’m immortal, I couldn’t die, but if my magic is drained enough, the Dark One could drag me into the abyss with him…to forever sleep.  Wouldn’t that be convenient,” he murmured sadly.  “You wouldn’t have to worry about the price you owe me.  You’d be free of me.”

       Belle set her spoon down and reached for his hand.  “Don’t talk like that.  Merlin was powerful, but I have my doubts that he could compare to you.  You _will_ come through this, Rumpelstiltskin, and I will be waiting for you when you do…at your side.”

       “Such an odd girl.  Anyone else would use my weakness to their advantage and escape,” he said, lifting his spoon to his lips.

       “I refuse to debate this with you.  Besides, had I been a normal ordinary girl, you would have been bored within a week and sent me home to my father,” she retorted.

       They ate in silence, reluctant to speak of the spell or the deal they’d made, no matter how heavily it weighed upon their minds.  It was nearing sunset when they returned to the carriage to make their way back to the Dark Castle.  Belle once again curled up against Rumpelstiltskin’s side and pulled the blanket securely over their legs, but this time she pulled his arm to rest about her shoulders.  He might be waiting to fulfill their deal until the deal with the prince was concluded, but…she wasn’t.

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

       Belle tossed the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed.  It was no use…she couldn’t sleep.  Too much of her future hinged upon the events of the next day and her mind just wouldn’t let her rest.  Everything was packed and ready to go in a small trunk which seemingly had no bottom that Rumpelstiltskin had provided, ensuring that they'd be able to travel light.  She rose from the bed and poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on her dresser, sighing with delight as the cool water quenched her parched thirst.  She couldn’t seem to get his words out of her mind.  _Forever sleep_. 

       Perhaps she was being selfish for asking him to aid the royals with such a complex piece of magic.  He was putting himself at risk and he wouldn’t even tell her of the risks pertaining to her own self.  Her bare feet were silent on the plush rug that covered the hardwood floor before the hearth as she paced.  The thought of losing him was just as painful as if someone had slipped a knife between her ribs.  It was the reason she’d returned to him when he’d sent her to town that fateful day.  It wasn’t because the queen had filled her head with nonsense about breaking curses and true love’s kiss.  True love’s kiss wouldn’t break the dark one curse anyway, she thought with a snort.  Nothing short of his dagger was going to break that and she found she didn’t want to break it anyway.  She’d fallen in love with the man he was now and didn’t have any desire to change him.  She’d rushed home that day determined to spend as much time in the library as necessary to see if what the queen said was true.  As much as she wanted to share her newfound feelings with Rumpelstiltskin, she wouldn’t take the chance that the queen was right and take away his curse.  He would have been beyond furious and she didn’t even want to think about his reaction to such an occurrence

She raked a hand through her long chestnut tresses and sighed, leaning her forearm against the mantelpiece of the cold hearth.  She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him then and now that her love for him had grown, she wouldn’t allow him to be taken from her now.  But there were no books in the library on the Charm of Making for her to study.  There were only mild references to it in the stories of Arthur and his knights that she so enjoyed reading.

Belle moved back to the bed and retrieved the silk robe that matched the ivory nightdress she wore, thrusting her arms impatiently into the long sleeves and belting it at her waist.  She glanced at the timepiece on her nightstand, groaning as she noticed the time…half past three.  They were to leave after breakfast and she was going to feel wretched with having had no sleep.  She was almost as nervous about having to pay the price of the magic to Rumpelstiltskin as she was about the actual spell and the repercussions to follow.  What if when he looked into her mind, into her heart, he still didn’t believe her?

Not for the first time, she wondered if sleep eluded him as well.

       Squaring her shoulders with determination, she turned on her heel and threw the door open, shivering slightly as she padded out into the corridor.  The torches flared to life, lighting her way to the little used path that would take her to Rumpelstiltskin’s bedroom.  She convinced herself she wasn’t doing anything wrong.  After tomorrow, she would forever be his, to share his life and home and bed.  The deal had been struck, so why should she be forced to wait?  Her thoughts were a tumult of emotion as she padded along on the crimson carpet runner, her feet taking her to a part of the castle she’d never been allowed before until she was standing before the oak double doors with their ornate gold handles that led into her former master’s bedchamber.

       Belle stared at the doors, her fingers twisting nervously and her bottom lip firmly clamped between her teeth.  _What in hades am I doing?  Coming to his bedchamber in the middle of the night?  What if he’s asleep?  What if he scolds me for disturbing to him?  What if he sends me away? What if_ _…_ _Oh for the love of the gods, Belle, suck it up!!_ She gave herself a firm mental shake and knocked so lightly on the door, she was certain there was no way he could have heard it.  When he didn’t answer, she turned the door handle, praying the hinges wouldn’t squeak as she pushed the heavy door inward, and poked her head into the darkness.  The only light in the room was the glow of the fire and she used it to guide her to the massive four poster set under a bank of heavily curtained windows.

       Rumpelstiltskin watched his girl…and she _was_ his as unbelievable as that may seem to him…pause just inside the door of his bedchamber and he forgot how to breathe.  She was draped in an ivory robe that hugged her curves, her chestnut hair a riot of curls cascading down her back and over her shoulders.  She looked like a siren, come to call him forward to meet his doom.  He couldn’t speak and he certainly couldn’t find the strength to move.  All he could do was lie there and watch her as she moved to stand beside the bed, wringing her hands and chewing on that luscious lower lip that he longed to capture between his own.

        “Belle, what are you going in here?” he asked softly.  She gasped, startled, her eyes searching for his in the darkness.  She had little difficulty, the light from the fire reflecting from his luminous orbs.

       “I can’t sleep,” she said, reaching for the belted tie of her robe and slipping the garment from her shoulders.  She tossed it over the foot of the bed and reached to pull the duvet back to slide between the cool sheets.

       He scooted all the way to the edge of the bed, clutching the duvet to his bare chest as he looked at her with wide eyes.   “I suppose there’s no cocoa in the kitchen and you thought crawling into to bed with me would be the next best thing?” he asked, his voice a bit shriller than usual in his panic.

       She propped herself on an elbow and fluffed the pillows beneath her head.  His eyes followed her every movement as she laid down and wiggled around, seeking a comfortable position, finally settling on her right side to face him, the duvet tucked under her left arm and her knees bent at a childlike angle beneath the covers.  “I couldn’t sleep so…” she huffed a curl off her brow.  “I thought I would see if you were still awake.  You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” she asked with a perfectly innocent smile.

       “Belle, that doesn’t explain what you are doing in my bed!”

       “Well, if we’re both awake I didn’t see why we couldn’t be awake together,” she reasoned.

       His nose crinkled on the bridge as his lips pulled back over his teeth in the semblance of a snarl.  “And neither of us are going to get any sleep now.”

       Belle yawned and snuggled down into her pillow, thinking his bed was much more comfortable than her own.  “You’ll never know until you try.” She patted the mattress next to her invitingly.  “Come on, Rumpel, lie down.  I promise not to bite.”

       He snorted and remained where he was on the edge.

       She lifted the duvet up and peered beneath.  “You don’t have a stitch on, do you?  Is that what’s troubling you?”

       Rumpelstiltskin leapt from the bed, dragging the crimson silk duvet with him and wrapping it about himself, leaving on arm free so he could point a long blackened talon at her.  “What’s troubling me, dearie,” he said in a condescending tone.  “Is that you’re in my bed when you should be several doors down tucked into your own.”

       She propped herself up on her elbows and arched a brow at him, covered now only by the gold sheet.  “We made a deal today,” she said calmly, meeting his wary gaze with a steady one of her own.

       “I realize that seeing as I was there,” he snarked.  A wisp of crimson smoke escaped from beneath the duvet and a moment later he tossed it back over the bed, not wanting her to catch a chill.  At least that was what he told himself.  Of course it had nothing to do with her scantily clad form lounging so seductively against his pillows.  Her gaze traveled over the cotton sleeping pants slung low on his hips and he had to suppress the shiver that crept over his spine.  Who knew her eyes on him could be just as powerful as her touch. _Gods!_

       “You made a deal with me to have me in your home, your life and…”

       “My bed.”  He gulped around the knot that formed in his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing steadily as he swallowed.

       “So come to bed,” she purred, turning once again on her side to face him.

       He giggled, this one more out of nervousness that his clever wit.  “Oh no, dearie, that part of the deal isn’t mine until after we help the Charmings.  So run along now back to your room.”

       Her eyes filled with hurt and her lower lip trembled.  “Y-You really don’t want me t-to sleep next to you?” she asked, a painful lump forming in her chest, threatening to crush the air from her lungs.  “Or was I wrong and you simply want me to share your bed when it’s _convenient_ for you?”

       Rumpelstiltskin took a tentative step towards the bed, his hand held out to her, feeling like an ass for the misunderstanding.  “No, Belle, no!”

       “I know you want me, Rumpelstiltskin.  I felt just how much when you kissed me, so don’t even bother denying it.  That’s not what I’m asking for, not what I want…yet,” she explained.

       “It’s not?” he asked, confused, then snapped back to himself and waved a dismissive hand.  “No, of course it’s not.”

       Belle narrowed her eyes on him.  “And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

       He raked a frustrated hand through his hair, pulling out several strands in his haste and then gestured to his bare chest.  “What do I mean? Look at me, Belle!  How could you want this?”

       She sighed deeply, her heart breaking a little more as his insecurities reared their ugly head.  “I _do_ want you.  But tonight I just need…” her voice broke and she drew in a shaky breath.  “I’m frightened.  I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow and I just need _you_.  I want to sleep in your arms and feel your heartbeat beneath my ear because I don’t know if I’ll ever have that again.”  She lowered her head, wiping furiously at the tears that coursed over her ashen cheeks, her hair falling about her to form a curtain where he could no longer see her face.

       She felt the mattress dip beneath his weight and then she was enveloped in his arms, her face pressed to his chest as he scooted in close to her and simply held her as she’d wished.  “Please don’t cry, Belle,” he whispered, shushing her, his hands tracing the curve of her spine as he tried to comfort her.  “Don’t be frightened.  I will always protect you.”

       She slipped her arm around his waist, her hand splaying against the warm skin of his back and tangled her legs with his, pressing as close to him as possible.  Eventually her soft sobs subsided and she stilled, comforted by the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.  She was still for so long, Rumpelstiltskin thought she’d fallen asleep, but her soft words disabused him of that notion.  “Don’t leave me, ok?  Don’t break your promise,” she whispered sleepily.

       “I won’t.  Go to sleep,” he murmured, fighting slumber now that he was so relaxed and content with his girl wrapped so securely around him.

       “Why do you need me to help you tomorrow?” she asked, her heavy-lidded eyes looking up at him to search his face.

       “Because you will keep me grounded.”

       “Why?”

       He held his tongue, not wanting to reveal the depths of his emotions for her.  But Belle was the most persistent woman he’d ever met and he should have known she wouldn’t simply give up.

       “Rumpel, why?”

       He sighed, cracking one eye open to gaze down at her upturned face.  “Because you are the only person in this realm that I have an emotional bond with, Belle.  Once the spell is cast, our blood intermingled in the casting, we will be well and truly bound.  There is nowhere you will be able to hide from me that I won’t find you.  You will be a part of me.  That is one of the reasons I told Charming no.  I didn’t think it would be something you would want.  I had no idea you’d be so accepting of it when you offered your deal.”

       “I _chose_ to be with you when I returned to you.  It is only fitting that I bind myself to you.  When you claim your price I’m hoping you can see for yourself just how much I want this, how much I want you…”  Her voice trailed off as sleep finally claimed her, but it eluded him for a while longer as he pondered her words.  He wondered if he would ever uncover the mystery that was Belle.  And he’d never understand how she could claim to care for the monster he viewed himself as.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know you were expecting the spell to be cast in this chapter, and I’m sorry to disappoint you, but this is a romantic AU for our beloved OTP and it is first and foremost about them and the journey they’re traveling on the path to true love. There are so many possibilities for them stuck together up in that drafty old castle, and I just thought I would share a few before we got into the drama of helping Charming and Snow.
> 
> For the guest who was concerned about Lancelot and how his part of the story was going to be explained…next chapter, love.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. It pleases me greatly that I’ve been able to develop another fic to entertain you all. I will continue to try as long as there are lovely readers like you to read and enjoy them.


	3. Chapter 3

        Belle cracked one sleepy eye open and yawned.  Something had woken her, but for the life of her she couldn’t recall what it had been.  One thought permeated her sleep-addled brain…so warm, so content, and safe, and happy.  She was sprawled across Rumpelstiltskin’s bare chest.  How she’d gotten there, she had no idea, but she couldn’t find it in her to complain when the steady beat of his heart thrummed pleasantly beneath her ear and his warmth seeped into her every pore. She had nearly fallen prey to sleep once more when she heard that noise once again.  It was coming from her sorcerer, a soft sound of distress that cut right through her chest to pierce her heart…her name, barely a whisper in the stillness of their bedchamber.

        “Belle…no…don’t go,” he cried softly, his brows drawing together in a deep frown.  “Please…don’t leave.”

        She raised herself slightly, and moved to stroke her wrist along his jaw and brush his wayward curls away from his eyes.  “Shh, Rumpel, I’m here,” she murmured, her voice husky with drowsiness.  He stilled immediately and his breathing gentled, his face sought the warmth of her skin. The last vestiges of slumber left her as his lips brushed against her palm, little tingles of awareness shooting from her hand to her sensitive nerve endings and settling in her lower belly.  It was the same sensation she’d experienced yesterday when he’d kissed her, and she knew with the right provocation, the feeling would only intensify.

        A purely wicked smile tilted the corners of her mouth as she lowered her lips to his.  They brushed his in a feather-light kiss and he shifted beneath her.  She held her breath, her eyes flying upwards to see if she’d awoken him.  _Nope, still asleep. Whew!_   She slid her hands up the sides of his long neck and into the soft waves of his hair, pausing just a moment to toy with his ears.  His lips parted on a sigh of pure delight as her nails skimmed lightly over his nape and he arched beneath her.  She bit down on her lip as she felt the lower half of his body begin to stir, her eyes darted between his closed eyes and his parted lips. Consequences be damned, she lowered her head and captured his bottom lip between her own, pressing, sliding, molding to him until she felt him respond.  She was smiling, her passion-darkened eyes meeting his warm amber orbs as he gently gripped her upper arms and pushed her back far enough to put some much needed distance between them.

        “Belle,” he hissed, the only coherent word to pass his lips as she shifted against him again and his erection dug into her hip.  “W-What are you doing!”

        She pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth.  “Good morning,” she whispered and moved to the other side of his mouth to give it equal attention.  “I’m kissing you.”  Another kiss.  “I thought it would be quite apparent what I was doing.”  She smiled up into his eyes before her little pink tongue snaked out to swipe across his bottom lip.  His hands tightened around her upper arms and a whimper he wasn’t able to muffle rose up in his throat as she nipped gently at his lower lip.

        “Belle…you shouldn’t, love,” he said around a groan.  Between her wriggling hips and her hot little mouth, he felt as if he was going to spontaneously combust from the heat pumping through his veins.

        “Shouldn’t what?” she asked innocently.  “I’m just kissing you good morning.”  She sucked gently at his upper lip, her tongue running sinuously along the inside and he released her arms to wrap around her back, crushing her to his chest.  “Our first morning together.  I do believe I like waking in your arms,” she said, all hint of playfulness leaving her tone.  Her gaze was steady and he could see that she meant every word.

        “We can’t do this,” he said, moving her off his chest to lay at his side.  He propped himself on an elbow and studied her flushed features.

        She ignored him and curled back into him, wrapping her arm around his waist.  “Do what?  Kiss?  Touch?  Enjoy one another?” she asked, her fingers traveling over the ridges of his spine.

        “Kissing leads to much more, dearie.  I won’t do that to you when the future is so uncertain.  If I-”

        Belle reached up and covered his mouth with her hand.  “Don’t you say it, Rumpelstiltskin.  Nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

        “If it does, at least I will know that I didn’t take your innocence.  You’ll be able to find a good and decent husband and know that you’re still a maiden, that you weren’t defiled by a beast,” he said,smoothing over her hair.

        Belle sniffled and hid her face in the crook of his neck, her grip on him tightening.  Her voice was barely a whisper when it came and he doubted he would have heard her had he not had the heightened senses that came part and parcel with his curse.  “I will have no other.  I am yours and yours alone.”

        He dipped his head and placed a lingering kiss to her temple before tipping her chin up to kiss her nose.  “You deserve better.”

“Rumpel…”

        “I’m not discussing this with you now, Belle.” His tone was one that didn’t leave any room for argument, but he lay there for several moments, willing his body to cool and his heart to slow its rapid tattoo against his ribs.  He wanted so much to share in her optimism, but what kind of future could she really have with him?  Everyone he had ever loved had left him at some point in his extraordinarily long life and he didn’t see how she could be any different.  He’d drive her away too.  His utmost concern now was to make certain she was protected, come what may.  “Come, time to get up and prepare to leave.  I want to make certain everything is ready when the moon rises.”

        Belle huffed a frustrated sigh and watched her imp rise from the bed.  His shoulders were set with determination and she had to worry if he was determined to succeed with the spell to the point where she would lose him or if he would fight for what they could have together, if he would fight for her.

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

        Belle placed the last plate in the draining board next to the sink and dried her hands on a dishtowel.  She had set the kitchen to rights after breakfast.  She didn’t want to return home to a mess.  The tightness in her stomach hadn’t allowed her to eat much and Rumpelstiltskin had barely touched his own meal.  Even the castle seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.  It was almost as if it had taken on its master’s melancholy mood and Belle was helpless to do anything about it.  Rumpel had been unusually quiet this morning after they’d dressed and come down to partake in their morning tea and the last meal they would have before going to aid the Charmings.  Not one quip passed his lips and that in itself should have been cause for Belle to worry.

        “I have your cloak, dearie,” he said from the kitchen doorway, his features schooled into a stoic mask.  “I doubt you’ll need it once we’re no longer this high in the mountains, but-” His voice trailed off, realizing his was rambling.  What was is about this girl that caused his tongue to become twisted in knots and the eloquent words that ruled his life to become lost somewhere between his mind and his lips?  “Are you ready?”

        Belle kept her back to him and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes to keep the tears at bay.  They’d been threatening all morning.  The more she thought about what they were about to do, the more her spirits crept into darkness.  She knew he was doing this only because she had asked it of him.  It was the right thing to do, the _only_ thing to do to bring peace to the kingdom.  But would the cost be too high for her to pay?  She pasted a smile to her lips, one that nowhere matched the sadness in her eyes, and moved to his side, taking the cloak from him and draping it about her shoulders.

        She followed him into the foyer and twined her hand with his left; their trunk grasped firmly in his right, and fought off the dizziness that overtook her as his magic propelled them forward into the ether.  They reappeared in a cavernous room with high vaulted ceilings.  Belle blinked against the sudden darkness, the interior reminding her more of the Dark Castle before she’d begun going from room to room letting in the light and banishing the heavy drapes that blocked it out so thoroughly.  What little light filtered in, fell on a full war council assembled around a round oak table with intricate designs on its surface.  It reminded her of Arthur’s roundtable and she thought it was quite fitting under the circumstances.

        They went unnoticed for a few moments before Snow’s eyes met Belle’s across the room and the princess laid her hand gently on Charming’s arm to gain his attention.

        Rumpelstiltskin took that as his cue to make himself known, his trademark giggle echoing through the room.  He strode forward, Belle at his side with her hand firmly nestled in the crook of his elbow.  “Well, dearie, it seems you have all your best and…not so brightest,” he whispered in an aside to Belle, “assembled in one place.  Pray tell, is there anyone left on the battlefield?”

        The Blue Fairy drew herself up, clearly affronted by the presence of the Dark One.  “What is HE doing here?”

        Snow cast a warning glance in the fairy’s direction as Belle’s eyes narrowed on the tiny woman.  Snow rose to her feet to approach the pair, but not before she called over her shoulder, “Rumpelstiltskin is here to help us.  With a bit of luck and a lot of…magic, this will end tonight.”

        Rumpelstiltskin took note that the princess refrained from using the word dark to describe his magic and gave her a small bow.  “Highness.”

        “Thank you for coming, Rumpelstiltskin.”  She turned her gaze to the petite brunette on his arm and cast her a friendly smile.

        “May I present the lady Belle,” he said proudly.

        Belle dipped into a curtsey and returned Snow’s smile.  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”

        “Call me Snow, please.  Charming tells me I have you to thank for gaining Rumpelstiltskin’s assistance.”

        “I…I ah, struck a deal with Rumpel and…”

        “That’s right, dearie,” he said, his amber eyes narrowing on the princess.  “And don’t think you can shirk the price of the magic simply because you owe Belle instead of me.”

        “Of course not,” Snow said.  “I welcome you.  Whatever we can do to assist, don’t hesitate to let us know. I—“

        “You cannot seriously be considering asking for his help!” the fairy screeched indignantly.  “No one has _ever_ come out on the better end of a deal with the Dark One.”

        Red bared her teeth at Blue as she bounded lithely to her feet, her hands planted firmly on the round table as she leaned forward.  “Yeah and I haven’t seen where you’ve been all that helpful yourself.  You hover there and shoot down every one of our ideas, claiming morality and good and I’m sick of it.  Your goodness and light mentality isn’t going to win us this war!”

        Charming held up a hand and Red subsided, flopping back into her chair, her hands clenched into fists on the arm rests.  “Fighting amongst ourselves isn’t going to solve anything.  The Dark One and his lady have agreed to help us and we are going to accept it.”

        “But at what cost?” the fairy hissed angrily.

        “You don’t need to worry about that, Blue.  Snow and I will bear the cost, not you and not the kingdom,” he said, steadfast in his refusal to quail before the fairy or any other member of the council.

        Blue flew across the table and hovered mere inches before the prince’s prominent nose, pointing one tiny finger at him.  “You will rue the day you made a bargain with that demon.  He will fail and you will lose _everything_ and you will have no one to blame but yourself for not listening to me.”  With that she disappeared with a tiny pop.

        Charming shook his head and breathed a heavy sigh.  “Well that went as well as could be expected, I suppose.”

        “You knew when you asked me to come here that she was going to be opposed, Shepherd.  You were delusional to think that the two of us could work together.”  He leaned close to Belle to whisper, “The fairies and I have never seen eye to eye.”

        “I can see why,” she replied.  She took in the face of each member of the council, sizing them up.  “Snow, is that the only opposition we’re faced with, or are there other members of your council who do not want us here?”

        Snow shook her head.  “No, we are all in agreement.  This ends tonight.”

        Rumpelstiltskin eyed her skeptically, but eventually nodded.  “And the preparations?  Have they been completed?”

        Charming dismissed the council with instructions to take up their assignments and prepare for battle.  Only Red and one knight remained.  Charming moved to Snow’s side and wrapped a protective arm about her waist, pulling her into his side.  “Everything is as you wished.  If you’d like, I can take you there now.”

        Red grinned cheekily at the imp as he passed, not afraid of him in the least, and Belle was hard pressed to keep her own smile in check.  “Hi,” Red said, falling into step beside Belle.  “I’m Red.”

        “Belle.”

        “So what are you doing with the imp?” she asked, straightforward in her manner as ever.

        “Red!” Snow scolded.  “You shouldn’t ask such things.  It isn’t our business.”

        “Oh, come on, Snow, you have to admit to being curious,” Red said, quirking a brow at the princess.

        Belle chuckled softly, unused to being with women her own age.  For entirely too long it had just been her and Rumpelstiltskin.  She found herself enjoying the company of the other ladies no matter how frank and to the point they were in their questions.  “It’s fine, Snow.  And as to your question…I’m with Rumpel because I want to be with him.”

        Snow and Red exchanged an uneasy look.  But it was Snow who asked, “But I thought you said you made a deal with him so he would agree to help us.  And Charming said before that you’d made a deal with him to save your people.  Just how many deals _have_ you made with him?”

        “Oh it’s true.  He saved my kingdom in exchange for me becoming his caretaker.  But that deal has been over for a while.  He let me go, but wasn’t expecting me to come back to him.  I _choose_ to be with him,” Belle said, blushing prettily when Rumpelstiltskin, walking several paces ahead beside Charming and the knight, turned and winked at her.

        Red lowered her voice.  “I never thought I’d see the day someone fell for the Dark One.”

        Snow elbowed her in the ribs.  “Red!”

        “What?! Are you saying that thought didn’t cross your mind? If you do, I won’t believe you, Snow,” she said defensively.

        Snow shook her head at her dearest friend.  “I think everyone has a True Love out there somewhere, even the Dark One, apparently.”

        Red snorted.  “I never believed Granny before when she said that love was blind.”

        The three women laughed, but Belle wouldn’t reveal anything more of her relationship with Rumpelstiltskin. How was she to explain it to her new friends when she didn’t understand it herself?  The only thing she was sure of was that she loved him more with every beat of her heart and that she never wanted to be parted from him.  She pulled her cloak more securely about herself as they descended a set of stone stairs down into the dark dungeon to ward off the sudden chill that overtook her.  Her eyes were able to adjust fairly quickly as she moved down the stairway thanks to the torches burning brightly at intervals along the walls, but the steady drip, drip of water was rather eerie in the quiet gloom.  Just the sort of place Rumpel would be comfortable casting his spell.

        They emerged into a circular room, stone floors and dank stone walls, cells surrounding them on all sides.  “Well it’s about time you got here! I’ve only been calling you for four days!” came a familiar voice off to her right.

        “Jefferson!” she cried incredulously, rushing over to take his hands through the bars.

        “Hatter! How do you get yourself into these predicaments?” Rumpelstiltskin asked, his hand flourishing dramatically as he leaned against the cell door and giggled.  “And I was going to answer… eventually.”

        Jefferson glowered at the imp and planted his hand on his slim hips, his eyes wide and manic.  “When? Before or after I found my head on the block?”

        “What did you do, Jefferson?” Belle asked, arching a brow.

        Charming stepped up behind her and gestured to the man occupying the cell.  “He was captured leaving the queen’s camp.  They’ve a long well-known history together and we couldn’t take the chance of him roaming free, so we invited him to stay for a while.”

        “I told you, I don’t work for the queen!  She has my Grace and I had no choice.”

        Belle reached out and clasped his hand in hers.  He let her draw him closer to the bars and he looked down into her blue eyes with his cool gray ones, pleading her to believe him.  “Tell me what happened, Jeff.  We’ll work this out somehow.”

        “She took my Grace! Kidnapped her directly from the forest while we were hunting mushrooms.  You know I’ve been trying to teach her how to make a bit of money of her own and…”

        “Yes, yes,” Rumpelstiltskin said, waving a hand to urge him to get on with it.  “Stick to the pertinent facts.”

        The hatter smirked at him before turning his attention back to Belle.  “Regina said she would return Grace to me if I went to Wonderland to steal a certain item in her mother’s possession.”

        The imp’s eyes narrowed and his spine stiffened at the mention of Cora. “What item?”

        Jefferson rolled his eyes.  “I don’t know, some kind of talisman or amulet.  Why does that matter?”

        “Details are always relevant, Hatter.”

        Belle rubbed the pad of her thumb soothingly over the milliner’s knuckles.  “It may be important, Jeff.  What did the queen want?”

        “It was an amulet, I believe.  An ankh or an eye or—“

        “The eye of Osiris?”

        “That’s it!!” Jefferson exclaimed, snapping his fingers, a blinding smile full of pearly white teeth, blossoming on his handsome face.

        “Then it’s a damn good thing that the shepherd here detained you,” the sorcerer said, quite disbelieving that the princeling had done something right for a change.  Charming preened proudly as Snow cast her doe-eyed gaze in his direction.  The imp rolled his eyes. 

        Snow tilted her head to the side and frowned, puzzled.  “What’s so special about this amulet?”

        “The eye of Osiris in the hands of someone in Wonderland is harmless, a pretty bauble.  But here…in this realm…the eye will magnify the magic of the wearer tenfold.  With it in her possession, Regina could crush her enemies with a mere flick of her wrist,” he said, a deep frown furrowing his brow.  “That CANNOT happen.”

        “I should say not,” Belle agreed.  “But we can’t leave Grace in Regina’s care.”

        Rumpelstiltskin was quiet, his mind working furiously.  “She has no doubt given care of the girl to her father, Prince Henry.  He won’t let any harm come to her, and after tonight’s coup we should be able to reunite you with your daughter.”  He turned to Charming and leveled him with a steely glare.  “Let him out.”

        Charming balked at his suggestion.  “What? But what if he runs back to the Queen and—“

        Belle turned up a brow at the hatter.  “You wouldn’t do that, would you Jeff?  It would make Rumpel extremely unhappy if you thwarted his plans and we know how unpleasant that would be, don’t we?”

        Jefferson gulped audibly and furiously nodded his head.  “You have my word to remain here until tomorrow if he can help me get Grace back.”

        Belle reached out her other hand and took Rumpelstiltskin’s, her features soft with the warm loving look she reserved solely for him.  “Rumpel?”

        A flick of his wrist and the cell door sprang open, but he was quick to caution.  “Best behavior, Hatter.  Don’t make me regret this.”

        Jefferson stepped out of the cell and shook Charming’s hand, then Rumpelstiltskin’s and finally took Belle’s and dropped numerous kisses to her knuckles.  Belle giggled.  Rumpelstiltskin swatted him in the back of the head and growled, “Stop slobbering all over my Belle!”

        The manic smile slipped from the hatter’s lips, transforming into one of pure delight.  “Well,” he said, drawing out the word.  “ _Your_ Belle?  Does this mean you’ve finally admitted you love her?”

        “Jefferson, dear, don’t provoke him,” Belle warned in an urgent whisper.

        “Do you want to spend your time waiting for your daughter’s return as a snail? And don’t think I’ll suffer a moment’s remorse turning you into one,” the Dark One hissed.

        Jefferson dropped Belle’s hand and threw up his own in a gesture of surrender.  Red hooked her hand into the crook of his arm and pulled him along with her to the staircase that led to the upper levels.  “Come along, handsome.  You can get cleaned up and I’ll show you to a guest chamber.”

        Snow hid a smile behind her hand and followed Charming and Rumpelstiltskin into the room they’d had prepared to the sorcerer’s use.  “We had it emptied and thoroughly cleaned as you’d requested.  George used this room for torture,” Snow said in a disquieted tone.  The room was made of stone, floor to ceiling, and the green algae that was prevalent in the rest of the dungeon absent after the scrubbing.  Bright daylight streamed in through the bar covered windows high in the walls, chasing away the shadows.  Apparently George had wanted natural light for his tortures.

        Rumpelstiltskin survey every inch of the room before declaring it adequate for his purposes.  He set the trunk in one corner and opened it, rifling through it and unpacking what he had brought from his laboratory at the Dark Castle onto a rough-hewn wooden table that had been provided.  He looked up at Charming and Snow with a wry quirk of his mouth.  “What? You’re still here?  I thought you had a battle to plan.”

        Charming bowed up in irritation.  “And just how are we supposed to know when the spell has been cast?  Or if it’s even successful?”

        His eyes took on a manic gleam as he stared down the princeling, his voice chilling in its intensity.  “Oh, believe me, Shepherd.  You’ll know.  Just be ready to move.”

        Snow smiled weakly and nudged her booted foot into Charming’s instep, making him wince.  “Thank you again, Rumpelstiltskin.  We’ll leave you two to prepare, but we will leave Lancelot with you in case you are in need of anything.”

        “That won’t be necessary.  Belle and I will be just fine,” he assured them.

        “Wait…Lancelot?” Belle asked, her eyes settling on the knight lounging against the wall near the door.  “Isn’t it just a bit of bad taste to take on such a lofty name?  And why would anyone want to be named after Arthur’s fallen champion?”

        Snow and Charming slipped from the room, knowing what was coming and having heard the story, decided to once again go over plans for battle before going out to the front lines to wait. 

        A slow smile curved the knight’s mouth as he bowed gallantly to Belle.  “Because I _am_ Arthur’s fallen champion.”

        Belle snorted.  “That’s not possible.  Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot lived centuries ago.”

        Rumpelstiltskin tsked at her.  “Dearie, we’ve had this discussion.  With magic all things are possible aside from the basic laws that can never be broken.”

        Belle rolled her eyes at him as he turned his back on her and continued to lay out the items he’d need for the spell.  She turned back to the knight, her hands planted firmly on her hips.  “Alright, I’ll give you that.  So you’re what? Immortal?”

        “In a way,” Lancelot answered.  “I was cursed.  When I embarked on the affair with Guin, it nearly destroyed Arthur _and_ the kingdom.  Merlin had maneuvered too many pawns across the chessboard of life to allow that to happen.  Of course, he blamed Guin and I.  Said it was lust that ruled us and blinded us to what was important.  Arthur slipped into such a deep depression there was nothing could get through to him.  I’m sure you know of the quest for the grail?”  When Belle nodded, he continued.  “I left in shame as did Guinevere, but not before Merlin had his revenge.  He cursed us.  He made certain Guin was banished from Camelot with the knowledge that she’d destroyed two good men.  She died alone in a convent with the constant pain her betrayal had caused.  Really it was the better of the two.  She at least finally found peace.  Merlin cursed me to walk the realms until I found true love.  Only then can I find peace, grow old and find my final rest.”

        Belle felt bad that she couldn’t find an ounce of sympathy for the man.  If it was one thing she just couldn’t abide, it was unfaithfulness.  “Was she worth it?”

        “No.  I loved Arthur more.  It was the loss of my king and dearest friend that hurt me the most.  Guin I loved as my queen.  It was a moment of weakness that was my downfall,” he said, his tone full of the remorse he’d carried for centuries.

        Rumpelstiltskin listened silently as he worked.  Knowing the pain of an unfaithful wife and the betrayal of someone he’d loved long ago, he couldn’t find it in him to feel sympathy for the man either.  “So now you work as a paid mercenary without home or country.  What brought you to the Charmings?”

        Lancelot turned to face the sorcerer he’d heard so much about, studying the imp as he worked.  “Surely you’ve heard of Snow’s capture by King George several weeks ago?”

        “I haven’t,” Belle said, pulling up a chair next to the worktable and taking the mortar and pestle from Rumpelstiltskin to help him prepare their ingredients.  He spared her a small smile and continued with the next part of his preparations, pulling a small pewter cauldron from the trunk and waving a hand over it, enlarging it for his purposes.

        “It was before Snow and little Red took this castle from the king.  He’d had me capture Snow and bring her here.  He cursed her with a potion.  One that would render her barren.”

        Belle gasped.  “No!  Snow can’t have children?  Because of George?”

        “She was cured with the waters of Lake Nostos, but the prince lost his mother in the process.  Instead of using the curative waters to save her from the poisoned arrow she’d been struck with, she made me trick Snow into drinking it.  I couldn’t continue to be a knight for hire to such a man as George, so I switched sides.  I’ve been with the Charmings ever since.”

        Belle nodded, working furiously with the pestle as she thought over all the knight had said. 

        Rumpel leaned a hip against the table and narrowed his gaze on the man.  “And have you learned anything from being cursed by Merlin?”

        “I’ve learned that love, true love, doesn’t exist for everyone…least of all me.  And I’ve learned to keep my distance from married women,” he admitted with a rueful quirk of his lips.

        Rumpelstiltskin studied the Lancelot, his penetrating stare making the knight more than a little uncomfortable.  “Belle, dearie, would you fetch some water for me please?” he asked, handing her a pitcher.  She quirked a brow, knowing all too well that he could have filled the vessel with a snap of his fingers.  He simply wanted her out of the room for a few moments.  Instead of arguing with him, she took the carafe and quietly left the room.

        The mage moved closer to the knight, circling around behind him, sizing up his prey. “How much would it be worth to you to find your true love, hmm?”

        “I’m not interested in your tricks, Spinner.  You make your deals and spin your contracts just as adeptly as you spin straw into gold.  No one has ever come out on the better end of a deal with you.  I’m wise to you,” Lancelot said.

          Rumpelstiltskin giggled, the sound carrying out into the corridor.  “I see my reputation precedes me.  Lovely.  But I can help you find your salvation,” he taunted.  He was confident a deal could be struck with the ancient knight.  He’d yet to be wrong about a desperate soul.

        “I don’t believe she even exists,” Lancelot said mournfully.

        “Oh indeed she does.  And she could be yours in exchange for oh…say…a simple favor,” the dealmaker said silkily.

        “A favor?  What kind of favor?” the man asked; hope flaring to life within his chest.

        “Do we have a deal, dearie?  A favor to the Dark One in exchange for the guiding light to your twoo wuv?” he sing-songed.  “A life of love…a woman to grow old with…and then the chance to go on to your final reward?  Or shall you continue to walk the realms, century after century, life after life, watching all those you care for wither and die before your eyes while you remain unchanged?  The pain of loss, regret, plaguing you for eternity?”

        Dark chocolate orbs met amber as the knight thought it over, the sorcerer’s words digging into his chest like claws and making him feel every sharp talon of loss and regret he’d lived with for over seven hundred years.

Rumpelstiltskin steepled his fingers beneath his chin, one brow arched in anticipation.  “Tick tock, dearie.  I don’t have time to waste, y’know.”

Lancelot sighed. What did he have to lose?  It wasn’t as if the mage could ask anything worse than some of the things he’d done in his past.  “Deal,” he said, holding out his hand to shake the green gold one of the sorcerer.

Rumpelstiltskin smiled with childlike glee.  He reached forward and snatched the bronze circlet that rested about the knight’s neck, ignoring his protests.  “No, that was given to me by—“

“Arthur.  Yes, yes, dearie, I realize that.”  With a wave of his hand and a few words from his spell clever lips, the circlet glowed brightly before returning to its normal dull hue.  He handed it back to the knight.  “Do not take it off.  When you draw near your true love, it will grow hot against your skin.  I suspect you’ll find her sooner than you suspect.”

Lancelot replaced the circlet about his neck and eyed the mage warily.  “And this favor of yours?” he asked, wanting to know just what he’d gotten himself into with all due haste.

Rumpelstiltskin glanced at the door, checking to see that Belle was nowhere within hearing distance.  “Don’t worry, dearie, I assure you it’s an easy one.  As long as Belle resides in this castle you will watch over her.  No harm is to come to her.  I assure you, my wrath is not something you wish to experience.”

Lancelot gaped at him with dawning realization.  “You don’t expect to succeed.”

The imp’s thin lips curled back over his ruined teeth in irritation.  “Of course I will succeed.  The only thing I am unsure of is what condition I will be in once I do.  If I am unable to protect my little dearie, I want to make damn certain of her safety.”

“That’s it?” the knight asked incredulously.

“That’s enough,” Rumpelstiltskin said with a dry laugh.  “You have no idea how willful and headstrong my lady can be.  You’ll be wishing I’d asked you to raid the Cave of Wonders instead.”

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

        “You should rest, Belle.  We have several hours until nightfall.  Can’t do much until then,” Rumpelstiltskin said as he put the finishing touches to the Dragon Pentagram he’d drawn on the stone floor in colored chalk.  He’d already made her eat a light repast to keep up her strength, but she’d eaten little.  He’d eaten nothing at all.  Being the Dark One, there was little of mortal necessities that he needed, but he wouldn’t let his girl do without.  He looked over at the small cot he had conjured for her.  “You need to keep up your strength for what we will be doing tonight.  I don’t want you collapsing in the middle of the spell.”

        “What about you?” she asked, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

        “I’ll be fine.”  He turned away from her and looked over the items spread out on the table, ready for his use.  He didn’t want to have to look down into her eyes, those infinite blue pools that seemed to see directly into his soul.  He was scared that one day she’d see just how black it was and realize what a mistake she’d made by staying with him.  He’d never be what she deserved and he wouldn’t delude himself into thinking otherwise.

        Belle took his hand and twined her fingers with his.  “Lie down with me.  You’re going to be casting this spell, so if anyone needs rest, it’s you,” she reasoned gently, pulling him towards the cot.

        He stumbled forward one step before he dug in his heels.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

        Belle frowned.  “How could it not be a good idea to rest?”

        “No, dearie, you misunderstand.  I don’t think it’s a good idea to lie down with _you,_ ” he said, giving her a pointed look.

        “Pfft,” she snorted, indignantly waving off his worry.  She tugged on his hand again and managed to move him another two steps.

        He pulled back, trying to free himself from her grasp.  “Belle, I don’t want the Charmings or any of their people to come down here to check on our progress and find me in bed with you,” he insisted.  “It’s already damaging enough to your reputation that you live with me.”

        “Exactly, so why should it matter?  Rumpel, I don’t care what people think of us.  I’m _happy_ with you, I _choose_ to be with you and everyone else’s opinions be damned,” she reprimanded as gently as she could, knowing that his sense of propriety was a sensitive subject with him.  It should be with her as well, considering how she’d been raised.  But she loved him and just because she didn’t have his ring on her finger didn’t mean that she was going to withhold herself from him.  With this deal she might not be his wife, but just as good as one in her opinion.  “Come on, Rumpel, it will do you good to rest before tonight.”

        “Belle,” he whined half-heartedly.  _What the hell is wrong with me?  I am the most powerful sorcerer in the realms and I am letting this little maiden lead me around by my_ _…_ _well, let’s not go there._

        But with Belle he could be himself.  He didn’t have to be the sarcastic, posturing “beast” that everyone had learned to fear, merely Rumpelstiltskin.  The back of his knees hit the edge of the cot and he sank down onto it with an _oomph._ Belle wasted no time pushing against his shoulders until he was lying prone on the little bed, following him down and curling up against his side in the limited space.

        Rumpelstiltskin laid stiffly beside her, his hands folded over his stomach, not daring to move.  Of course, that wasn’t good enough for Belle.  She pried his fingers apart and draped his arm around her shoulders so she could press closer and lay her head on his chest, a small sigh of contentment escaping her parted lips.  He pressed his face into her crown of chestnut curls and let her floral scent soothe him, his arm involuntarily tightening about her.  As much as he enjoyed lying with her in his arms, the quiet left him open for his doubts to resurface and he couldn’t help but worry.  It made him wonder whether she only made the deal to have him cast the spell and bring peace to the kingdom or if she did truly want to be with him.

        “Why would you want to be with me, Belle?  I’m a monster and-”

        Her fingertips pressed gently to his lips, but her cerulean eyes gleamed with steely determination…determination that she would succeed in making him understand just how wrong he was.  She had to make him see himself as she saw him without revealing the love she held for him in her heart.  He needed to see that for himself if he were to believe her when she finally spoke the words.

        “You’re not a monster, Rumpelstiltskin, and one day you’re going to believe those words to be true,” she smiled, brushing away the curls that had fallen over his eyes.  “Have I ever lied to you?”

        His eyes searched her face in the wan afternoon sunlight filtering in through the dungeon windows.  “No…at least not that I’m aware.”

        “Then why would I start now?  Why do I want to be with you? What do I see when I look at you?  I see a _man_ , not a monster.  A man who struggles with himself every day to be more than what the world sees him to be.”

        “Belle,” he murmured ruefully, still wallowing in disbelief.

        “Shush,” she scolded gently at the interruption.  “Hear me out.  When you brought me to the Dark Castle, I didn’t know what to expect and I was terrified.  You threw me in a dungeon and left me to cower in my fear.  You could have sold me, traded me, tortured me, raped me—“

        “I would never!” he said indignantly, staring at her in horror.

        “I know that, Rumpel, but at the time I didn’t.  You have a fearsome reputation that I had to learn for myself wasn’t true.  And you didn’t try to disabuse me of my fear either…until I chipped your cup.  ‘It’s just a cup’ you said…as if it meant little in the grand scheme of things.  I was afraid you would punish me for damaging your things on my first day there.  You showed me I was more than just a new acquisition.”

        “No, you were my greatest treasure.  Hard to find someone who can make such a tasty cup of tea,” he said in a poor attempt at a quip, the corner of his mouth twisting up into a sad smile.  His grip tightened on her waist and he pulled her just a bit closer.  He needed that closeness, that knowledge that she wouldn’t run from him.

        “Stop it,” she said, leaning up just a bit to kiss the underside of his jaw.  “Let me finish.”  When she had his full attention, she continued, her fingers twisting in the leather laces of his waistcoat nervously.  “I _see_ you, Rumpel.  My third night in the dungeon, I was so homesick for my papa.  Instead of doing some horrible action to stifle my cries, you gave me a pillow and showed me kindness.  When you let the thief live because you didn’t want his child to grow up without a father, you showed compassion.  And the little boy you couldn’t save in the village…”  She bit down on her lower lip to stifle a sob as she remembered, tears shining brightly in her eyes.  “His family blamed you because you couldn’t save him and yet all I could see was the remorse you felt.  A monster would never be able to _feel_ as you do, Rumpel.  A monster does not show kindness, nor does he feel compassion or remorse.”

        He smoothed his hand over the curls at her temple and trailed his knuckles over the curve of her jaw before resting it over her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing lightly over her lower lip.  “I’ve done so many horrible things.  If you knew…if you could see the darkness…you wouldn’t like me quite so well.”

        She looked up at him, capturing his gaze as she kissed his thumb.  “I don’t care who you were in the past or what you may have done.  I know who you are now and tonight…when the spell is done…you’ll know just how I truly feel about you, Rumpelstiltskin.  The heart doesn’t lie.”

        He felt his stomach clench at the mention of the spell, propelling his fears to the surface of his mind.  She would be his, bound to him forever.  And even if he did somehow eventually drive her away, she would never be free of him.  A part of him would always be with her.  “Belle, I won’t hold you to your deal.  You don’t have to go through with it.”

        “My fate, Rumpelstiltskin, my choice.  _You_ are my choice.  I will fulfill my part of the deal,” she insisted.  She smiled as her hand crept into the open collar of his shirt and his breath stuttered in his chest at the feel of her warm hand on his bare skin.

        “I don’t want you to stay because of a deal you made with me.  I want…”

        Belle nuzzled her nose in the crook of his neck and yawned, the low hum of desire in her belly manageable in her tiredness.  “Our desires are aligned.  You want me to remain with you because I truly want to, and I want you to keep me because you can’t bear the thought of living without me, because you love me.”  She kissed the hollow of his throat and snuggled deeper into his embrace.  “Perhaps by night’s end we will both have what we want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I had every intention of writing the spell into this chapter, but I got sidetracked by so many feels the fluff pirates came and made me write them all down. I really hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am. Please continue to read and review. Your comments feed my muse better than a margarita with an amaretto shooter. Thank you all so much for favoriting and following. It means so much to me. xoxoxo


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I would die without my beta, FaerieTales4ever. Thank you sooo much for all your help!!!

        Rumpelstiltskin frowned as his eyes fluttered open, the last dregs of slumber leaving his body.  He immediately noticed the absence of his beloved’s warmth in the bed with him and he searched the encroaching shadows for her.  His weathered features relaxed as he found her standing beneath one of the barred windows, the dying rays of the sun shining on her hair, highlighting the hints of red hidden within the chestnut locks.  Her head was bowed, her hands folded before her and her lips moving but emitting not the slightest sound.

        Seeing her standing there in all her innocent beauty, illuminated by the setting sun and looking like an angel, made him want to reevaluate his decision to bind her to him through the spell.  He knew it would do him no good.  Once her mind was made up, not even a pack of angry trolls could sway her resolve.  She didn’t notice when he rose from the cot and approached her, startling when he laid a hand on her shoulder.

        “Belle?” he asked gently.  “Are you alright, dearie?”

        She smiled weakly at him and nodded.  “Of course.  Just a bit nervous I suppose.  It’s nearly time,” she said, glancing up through the bars at the moon climbing higher into the night sky.

        Rumpelstiltskin followed her gaze.  “I estimate we have another hour at most.  He brushed a stray curl behind her ear, his frown matching the one that marred her brow.  He wanted so badly to profess his love for her in case the worst happened, to be able to say it just once, yet at the same time he didn’t want her to think he was only telling her because he was afraid he wouldn’t get another chance.  His lips twitched, but his attempt at a smile came across more as a grimace.

        “Belle, I…”

        Her fingers to his lips halted his words.  “Are you ready?” she asked, her eyes pleading with him to save his heartfelt confession for later.  After the spell, they would have all the time they needed to profess what was in their hearts and she couldn’t convince herself otherwise.

        He looked as if he wanted to argue with her, but instead sighed resignedly and nodded.  Taking her hands in his, crimson mist enveloped them.  Belle’s mouth formed a little silent ‘o’ of surprise as she took in his form.  He was dressed in a simple white cotton tunic and trousers of the same material that ended mid-calf, the lower half of his legs and feet bare.  She looked down at herself as she noticed his appreciative stare and realized her own clothes had been changed to match his.  A rosy blush rose to stain her cheeks and she shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze, feeling exposed before him.  She wasn’t used to having her legs on display in such a way, the slender curves of her thighs clearly outlined and the heat in his warm amber eyes conveyed just how much he was enjoying the view.

        “The fire is going to make it rather uncomfortable, and all natural fibers breathe better.  I don’t want you collapsing on me,” he said, releasing her hands and moving to his worktable.

        Belle looked down at the pentagram he’d drawn on the floor of the dungeon room, a golden dragon in the center and a red circle around the five-pointed star.  “What do we need to do first?” she asked, drawing a shaky breath.

        His head was bowed over the table, his palms flat against the surface, and she could practically see the tension rolling off of him in waves.  “First thing you need to do is tell me why you’re doing this? Why you’re so willing to bind yourself to me?”  He turned to find her standing at his back and he took her upper arms in a gentle grip.  “Belle, please think about this.”

        Slowly she inched forward…giving him the opportunity to avoid the close contact if he so desired…and splayed her hands over his chest, reveling in the steady thrum of his heart beneath her palm.  “I have thought of little else since yesterday, Rumpel, and I can think of no one I would rather be bound to.  You made the deal with me and I’ll not let you break it.  You’re mine now as I am yours,” she said fervently, reaching up on her toes to press a kiss to the thin line of his mouth.

        His hands traveled up her arms to settle on her shoulders, the pads of his thumbs teasing the sensitive flesh beneath her ears and raising goose bumps along her skin.  “Belle, I don’t want you to rush blindly into this.  You have no idea what will happen to you,” he said, his voice an urgent whisper as he tried to make her understand his hesitance. 

        “I trust you,” she replied, her eyes wide and filled with unwavering faith in him.  That faith only made him feel worse for what they were about to do.

        “Blood magic is not something to play with, dearie.  I will have a part of you within me…I’ll be able to feel you, your thoughts and emotions, your hidden desires no matter how far apart we may be.  You will become a part of me, Belle.  Others will see you as the Dark One’s servant, but I will see you as my equal.  You will live as long as I do.  What if you decide immortality doesn’t suit you or that you were rash in promising me forever?”

        Belle’s heart swelled until she thought it would burst from her chest.  “No one has ever seen me as their equal, Rumpel.  I don’t think you’ll ever realize how much that mean to me.  Will I be able to feel you as well? Through our bond?”

        He had to force himself to focus as he already felt the pull of her allure.  “Yes.”

        She nodded, her mind irrevocably made up.  “I want this…to be yours.  I will not change my mind.”

        He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply as he felt the magic of their deal sink deeper into him, unbreakable through the sheer force of her will.  “Very well.  But there is something I need to give you before we begin.” He released her and moved to the trunk, retrieving a large book he’d taken from one of the more unused sections of her library, the tome covered in a fine layer of dust.  He set the book on the table, his brow furrowing in a deep frown as Belle took several steps back, alarm on her lovely face.  “Belle, what is it?”

        “What’s that doing here?” she asked, wrapping one arm around herself in a protective gesture and pointing a finger at the book.

        “What?” he asked.  Dawning realization that she _knew_ what was hidden in the book struck him like a physical blow and his eyes darkened with anger and distrust.  “You know what’s in here,” he snarled in a menacing hiss.  “How do you know what’s hidden here?”

        “I was researching your curse and I-I was going through your magical texts.  I know I shouldn’t have, but I wanted to know more about you,” she stammered, guilt draining the color from her cheeks and leaving it ashen.  She was all too familiar with his temper and was happy it was very seldom directed at her.  But she knew he would see this as a betrayal of his trust and she rushed to explain further.  “The dagger is the source of your power, but also your weakness.  I knew that without having read about it because of stories I’d been told as a child.  I—“

        “How did I never sense you with it?” he asked incredulously, feeling like ten kinds of fool for never suspecting anything.

        “I never touched it.”  She gasped as his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist in a vise-like grip, pulling her against his chest.  “I knew and I couldn’t bring myself to touch it no matter how curious I was.”

        “Why?  Anyone else would have sold their own mother to Hades to lay hands on my dagger,” he breathed, staring in wonder at his precious girl, the breath growing stagnant in his lungs, the air held within as he waited for her answer.

        Belle took in a trembling breath as she tried to read the riot of emotion playing across his face.  “I don’t want to control you, Rumpel, and I certainly don’t want to kill you to gain your power.  I want you to trust me…trust that I will never hurt you like that.”

        He brought her wrist to his lips and pressed them gently to the translucent flesh and its spider web of veins, her pulse beating frantically.  “Will you ever cease to amaze me?”

        “Y-You’re not angry?  Because a moment ago you were wearing your Dark One face,” she said behind a tremulous smile.

        He huffed a gruff laugh.  “My Dark One face?”

        She hummed in agreement.  “It can be quite intimidating when it’s directed at me.”

        “Then I will strive to never direct it at you again, my dear.  I don’t want you to be afraid of me.  It’s fine for everyone else to fear me, but not you, Belle,” he said passionately.  He tugged on her hand, pulling her forward and using his free hand to open the book, the dagger with its bold lettering spelling out his name staring back at them.  “Will you take it, Belle?” he asked, lifting it from the hollowed innards of the book and holding it out to her.

        “I don’t want it.”

        “But I _need_ you to take it, Belle.”

She closed her hand into a tight fist as he tried to press the handle of the dagger into her palm.  “Rumpel, no.  I don’t want it.  I don’t need your bloody dagger to control you…either of you,” she protested hotly.

“This is why I,” he took a deep breath forcing himself to say the word that threatened to burn a hole in his tongue, “ _trust_ you with it, because you _don’t_ want its power.  This is to ensure your safety, not to make you my mistress.”

The irritation she’d felt drained out of her as she read the truth in his face, his eyes and the lilt of his voice.  “You really trust me with this.”  It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact and she couldn’t hide the wonder in her own tone.

He nodded solemnly.  “I do, Belle.  Please, love?” he asked with a shy quirk of his lips.

Belle narrowed her eyes.  _Now he’s just playing dirty._   _He’s playing on my desire to have him trust me as well as testing how much I care for him.  Sneaky imp!_ “I can give it back…you’ll take it back after we do this?”

“If that is what you wish.”

“I don’t wish for it in the first place, Rumpel, but if it will give you peace of mind to focus on what you must do, then yes, fine, I’ll do it.” She sighed wearily and pried her fingers open to accept the kris from him.  His eyes glowed with an inner light as he pressed the handle against her palm, evidently pleased that she’d bowed to his wishes and eager to see if she would make him bend to hers.

He visibly shivered as her hand tightly gripped the handle of the dagger and she was hard pressed to suppress one of her own.  She could feel the power course up her arm and unruly thoughts came unbidden to her mind.  _I could make him tell me exactly how he feels about me, the reason why he chose me for his price when he was called upon by my father and so many others,_ she thought excitedly.  Just as quickly she stomped on it with both feet.  She couldn’t do that to him.  He needed to tell her those things on his own and in his own time.  She wouldn’t force him no matter how much she desired an answer to her burning questions.

Belle dragged her eyes away from his name emblazoned on the blade and took him in, his lips parted as he panted softly, seemingly excited at the prospect of being in her control.  His eyes flashed from warm amber to deep onyx and back again as he fought the demon within.  He rested his hand over her heart.  “Feel it, my Belle, command it,” he whispered brokenly, overwhelmed with sensation, wanting nothing more than to please her.  “Command _me_.”

His eyes bored into hers, a minute ring of amber ringing the dilated pupils blown wide with lust.  A deep frown drew her brows together and she shivered.  She didn’t want him like this, under the command of his dagger and his will one with hers and not his own.  “I don’t want to,” she said, tucking the dagger out of his sight and into the waistband at the back of her cotton trousers.  “We should just do the spell and be done with it so I can give the dagger back to you.”

His spell clever hands twitched at his sides, the yearning to touch her almost a physical pain.  “Surely there must be something you want.  Anything within my power is yours, mistress.”

Her cerulean eyes flashed hotly.  “Don’t _ever_ call me that again, Rumpelstiltskin.  I mean it.”  Her mage dropped to his knees before her, groaning as he wrapped his arms around his stomach, his head bowed and his face shielded by his unruly mop of hair.  She knelt before him, gripping his shoulders in her shaking hands, consumed with worry.  “What is it?  What’s happening?”

A violent shudder wracked his thin frame and he leaned forward to rest his head against her shoulder, his voice little more than a pained whisper.  “I-I displeased you.”

“And this causes you pain?” she asked, horrified. 

He nodded and pressed his face into the crook of her neck where it met her shoulder, seeking comfort.  “The curse will not let me harm my mistress or cause any distress without suffering the consequences.”  He relaxed into her embrace as her hand moved to the nape of his neck and kneaded the tension from his drawn muscles.  “I didn’t know, Belle.  I’ve never let anyone…no one has ever controlled me before.”

Belle pulled him closer; her soft touch smoothing over his back, as she pressed gentle kisses to his brow and temples, shushing him.  “I’m sorry, Rumpel.  If I had known…” She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt the tension leave him, his hands settling on her hips, his breath evening out against the smooth skin of her throat.  “This is why you wanted me to have the dagger?  So you can’t harm me if you lose control.”

“Precaution. You will ground me, I’m hoping, but I have to assure your safety,” he whispered, his voice raspy as his lips trailed up to her ear and nipped lightly at the lobe.  A low rumble of pleasure sounded deep in his throat as he felt her respond and he reveled in the moan that rose from her lips.  “Want you so much.”

She whimpered as he pulled her into him and scorched a path of hot open-mouthed kisses from her ear to her mouth, claiming her lips with all the pent up passion he’d felt for her over the past several months.  He didn’t kiss, he devoured, all lips, teeth and tongue, searching out every part of her mouth that would bring her pleasure.  His arms wrapped tightly around her back, one hand dragging over the gentle slope of her behind to pull her up onto her knees with him and pressing her firmly against his arousal.  But as much as she wanted him, she had to remain focused.  She couldn’t allow this all be for nothing and give into her passion.

With a strength she didn’t know she possessed, she broke the kiss and held tightly to his shoulders, her nails digging into them through the soft cotton of his tunic.  “Rumpel, we can’t,” she said, turning her head in the direction of the barred windows as the howl of a wolf cut through the still night.  “Rumpel, we have to start the spell.  I need you to focus.”  Giving the dagger to her had loosened his inhibitions and the tight control he kept upon himself, and as much as she rejoiced at having him give into his feelings for her, now was not the time.  She moaned again as the flat of his tongue rasped over her collarbone and she knew if she didn’t stop him now, she wouldn’t be able to.  “Rum, stop.”

The sorcerer released her immediately and sat back on his haunches, breathing heavily.  It took a moment, but eventually his eyes cleared and rose to meet hers.  “I’m sorry, Belle,” he said, lowering his head in shame.  “I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t apologize for wanting me.  I want you too,” she said softly, rising unsteadily to her feet and holding out her hand to him.  He nodded, a smug smile curling up one corner of his mouth, but he couldn’t let himself become distracted again.

Rumpelstiltskin turned to the pentagram he’d drawn earlier on the floor of the dungeon room, the cauldron filled with water set at its very center.  He lit a magical fire beneath, the flames licking up the sides, willing it to heat the contents within.  He concentrated, calling over his shoulder, “Belle, the stones on the table, bring them please.”

Belle silently did as he asked and moved to the first point on the pentagram.  The first stone she placed was an amethyst crystal.  It would enhance the caster’s intuitive powers and consecrate the circle.  She moved to the next point, placing a smooth piece of agate.  It would bring balance and prevent Rumpelstiltskin’s magic from draining too quickly.  The third was a piece of coral to be used in defense.  It would keep the Dark One from gaining complete control over him.  The fourth stone, a garnet, was placed on the point facing east and was to increase their chances of success.  But the most crucial stone, an emerald nearly as large as her hand, she placed at the very top of the pentagram.  Should Regina sense the source of the magic being cast, this stone would stop her from hexing Rumpelstiltskin and make her own magic rebound upon her tenfold…at least before the spell reached her and she was powerless to use her magic against them.

She left the circle and retrieved two candles, one black, one white, setting the black one next to the eastern point and the white next to the western point.  They flared to life as she stepped back.  She took her place on one side of the cauldron, beneath the northern point as Rumpelstiltskin drew a line of salt around the entire pentagram, sealing it and stepping to the opposite side between the two southernmost points and adding the powdered bicorn horn and a vial of dragon’s blood to the now simmering water in the cauldron.  She shivered, despite the heat of the fire and the steam that rose from the roiling cauldron.

His eyes met hers, his jaw set and his shoulders tense.  An athame appeared in his palm with a quick flick of his wrist.  “Are you ready?”

She nodded, the nervous coil in her stomach refusing to let her speak as she accepted the hand he held out to her.  He held her hand palm up so their wrists were exposed.  He looked as though he wanted to call a halt to the whole thing, hesitating with the knife poised over the green gold hue of his flesh.  “I’m ready, Rumpel.  Do it,” she said firmly.

The blade flashed over the thin skin of his wrist, unable to resist her command, and his blood dripped into the cauldron, making it hiss and froth.  “My blood, my life, my being…I bind to thee, forever yours as you are mine,” he said, wincing at the sharp pain that traveled up his arm.  He passed the athame to Belle, wishing he could wipe the fear from her eyes as she took it in her shaking hand and pressed the blade to her translucent skin.

She wanted so much to draw away from him, to free her grip from his to avoid the pain, but she tamped down her fear and sliced into her flesh, refusing to let this deter her from having her heart’s desire.  She repeated his words, “My blood, my life, my being…I bind to thee, forever yours as you are mine.”  Her blood dripped steadily into the roiling water, causing the hissing to stop and take on the color of a winter’s mist.  Belle blinked down into the cauldron as she realized she was no longer looking into water, but a thick fog that rolled over her, latent with the magic of the Dark One.  He turned her wrist over and pressed it over his open wound, his blood flowing sinuously into her open vein, causing her to hiss with pain through her clenched teeth.

Belle felt light-headed and had to force herself to take deep calming breaths as his magic, the essence of his being, coursed through her veins to wind about her heart.  She forced the panic away, focusing on him, locking her gaze to him as he shared everything he was with her. Tears blinded her and she blinked them away as images flashed across her mind’s eye, images of death and loss and pain and horror. 

 _And what is that noise,_ she thought through the haze of pain washing over her.  It took a moment to realize it was her own shrieks of terror echoing through the dungeon room and she clamped down on her lower lip, biting hard to quell the sound.

 _It will pass_ , she heard in her mind.  But he hadn’t spoken.  How could she have heard him when his lips were clamped together just as tightly as her own?  _It will pass, love.  Hold on just a bit longer._   Her lips parted on a gasp as she realized that he was speaking directly into her mind.  They were truly bound.  She was so weak and she knew if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly, she would have crumpled to her knees.  He sensed her distress and sent a wave of magic through her, strengthening her and holding her up.  The images ceased and calmness overcame her.

His eyes darkened to the color of polished onyx as he chanted, “Annal nathrach oolthvas bethod dochyel dyenve.  Annal nathrach oolthvas bethod dochyel dyenve,” over and over again.  He’d been chanting softly since their bond had been complete and she’d been so overwhelmed by what was happening to her, she hadn’t even noticed.  The fog billowing from the cauldron now swirled around her and moved outward like a creeping mass and she fought to draw air into her starving lungs.

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

        Snow pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off some of the pressure behind her eyes, a headache that was a direct result of her fiancé’s pacing and theatrics. 

        “The moon’s been at its zenith for over an hour! I want to know when we’re going to be able to attack,” The prince seethed, stopping before Snow to rub at her shoulders.  His tone gentled as he said, “Perhaps I was wrong in trusting Rumpelstiltskin.”

        Snow rested her hand over his.  “I don’t think so.  Anything could have happened.  We just need to be patient.”

        Red charged into the tent, quickly shaking off the lycan curse and rising to her feet before them.  “A mist is rising and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

        “A mist?” Lancelot asked, suspicion coloring his deep voice as he moved to the entrance of the tent to peer out at the battlefield beyond.  In the distance, the fires of the enemy camp could barely be seen in the encroaching fog.  The Charmings pushed past him, surveying the scene.  The haze covered the entire battlefield now and seemed to be rising.  The many tentswere nearly obscured from their vision as it grew thicker and the voices of their men seemed to be growing louder in their panic.

        Snow gripped her bow in a tight fist, laying her other gloved hand on Charming’s arm.  “Do you feel that?”

        “Feel what?”

        Red rolled her eyes at the prince and raised her face to the night sky, the mist washing over it in a cool caress.  “Magic,” she breathed.  “Dark Magic.”  She was fighting with her inner wolf as it fought to be unleashed, to indulge in the bloodlust that came part and parcel with her curse. She didn’t have the time or inclination to suffer through Charming’s lack of wit.

        Lancelot breathed in the smog and his mind retreated to the last time he’d fought surrounded by the Dragon’s Breath.  A lump formed in his throat as he remembered Arthur falling to Mordred’s spear and breathing his last breath on the shoreline, fallen knights littered across the sand.  Ruby smacked him on the shoulder and he gave himself a mental shake, trying to focus on her in the gloom.

        “Hey! You with us?”

        “Yeah, Red, I’m good,” he said, caressing the hilt of his sword as he felt the bloodlust rise up in him.

        “How the hell are we supposed to fight in this?” Charming asked, tightening the scabbard holding his sword about his waist.  He was beginning the think the deal he’d made with the Dark One was more trouble than it was worth.

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

        Regina lounged on the makeshift bed in her tent and popped another slice of apple into her mouth, reveling in the fact that on the morrow the war would be over.  It had been nothing to convince the white rabbit to do her bidding, not when she had his son as her guest.  Tomorrow Percy would return from Wonderland with the Eye of Osiris and he could have his precious boy back.  She didn’t care as long as she got what she wanted.  Then she’d have _her_ happy ending.  The kingdom would be hers, Snow and her insipid prince would be vanquished, and her power would be the ultimate force in the realm.  Not even Rumpelstiltskin would be able to rival her.

        Her father entered the tent, a slaver held in his hands containing her evening meal, the hatter’s daughter trailing behind with a ewer of wine.  She smiled wanly at her father as he set the tray down on the small table and pulled out a chair for her to sit.  “I’m so tired of this, Daddy.  I long for the comfort of the palace,” she complained.

        “I’m certain you will be returning to it within days, my dear,” he replied, retuning her smile. Regina grinned at her ever-faithful servant.

        Grace handed the ewer of wine to Henry and asked, “Does this mean I can go home to my papa?”

        Regina took a small sip of her wine, scowling at the sub-par bouquet that violated her palate. Apparently King George lacked a sense of taste in his wine as he did in everything else. “I thought I’d invite you to stay with me at the winter palace, my dear,” she said silkily, cutting into the rare roast beef on her plate and smiling at the girl. “You will enjoy court life, something your father isn’t able to provide for you.  A pretty girl such as yourself would be a welcome addition to my home,”

        Grace’s face fell.  “B-But you promised I could go home.”

        “Grace, dear, your father has been captured by those intent on usurping my throne.  I doubt he even still lives,” the queen purred.

        Grace lowered her gaze and asked Henry if she could be excused, going to her pallet in the corner of the queen’s tent that he’d provided for her when she’d gained his permission and burying her face in her pillow, silent tears coursing down her face.  She would have rather been banished from the kingdom, from the realm for that matter, than be forced to live with the queen and her sycophants. 

        Prince Henry refilled Regina’s goblet and leaned close so the girl couldn’t over hear.  “Do you think that wise?  What if the girl’s father still lives and takes exception to you holding his daughter against her—“

        “Thank you, Daddy,” she snapped.  “That will be all.” 

        Henry sighed and bowed low to her, knowing it would be pointless to continue their conversation.

         King George nearly bowled him over as he stormed into the tent in high dudgeon.  “What is the meaning of this?” the prince asked, blocking George’s view of Regina.  “The queen is not to be disturbed.”

        “Out of my way, you half-wit,” he snarled, pushing past the elderly prince.  “Regina, a mist is rising.  The sentries won’t be able to see more than a foot in front of them.”

        Regina laid down her fork and quirked a brow at the odious king.  “If our men can’t see through it, there’s little chance that we’ll be attacked tonight.  If we are blinded, our enemies will be as well.”

        George paced in the small confines of the tent, his noble features twisted into a sneer.  “This puts us at a disadvantage.  Isn’t there something you can do…magically?” he asked.

        Regina sipped thoughtfully at her wine before pushing her half-empty plate aside and rising to her feet.  “If it concerns you so greatly, I suppose I could dispel the mist,” she answered, moving to the entrance of her tent and disappearing through the flap, the king following at her heels.  It was only a simple weather charm, beginner’s magic she’d learned from Rumpelstiltskin in her first year as his apprentice.

        The mist wrapped around her, enveloping her black-clad form in its icy hands and she shivered.  An uncomfortable weight settled in her stomach as she tried to see through the mist and she felt something she hadn’t experienced in years…fear.  Dark magic swirled and pulsed through the anomaly, sending pin pricks of awareness dancing along her skin. 

        The king stepped to her side and tapped a foot impatiently.  “Well, are you going to do it or not, Your Majesty,” he snarled, her title sounding like an epithet spoken from his thin lips.

        Her mouth twitched into a smirk as she raised her hands before her and prepared to magic away the mist. But when she gestured, nothing happened. The knot in her stomach tightened. She schooled her features, trying not to show the anxiety rising within her. Once more, Regina raised her hands to perform the spell, and again, nothing came of it.

        The queen swallowed hard as the fear that coiled so unfamiliarly in her belly settled on her face for all to see as the magic failed to release itself from her spell clever fingers.  How could it be that she couldn’t access her powers?  “It’s not working!” she shrieked furiously.

        Shouts came from her left, drawing her attention from the growing panic in her breast. George strode forward, trying to see through the haze to pinpoint where the now obvious sounds of battle were coming from.  He turned back to her and grabbed her upper arms in a vise-like grip.  “Useless woman!  What good are you to me without your magic?  Go; rally your men to the perimeter.  We’re under attack!”

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

        The White forces swarmed over the camp, the enshrouding mist of Dragon’s Breath giving them the advantage.  Enemy soldiers woken from their rest rushed out to meet them, some not even in full armor to protect themselves. They fell swiftly under blade and arrow, and some to a bloodthirsty wolf the size of a Shetland pony.  Screams of agony and cries of despair rent the air as they were cut down one by one. As they lay dying from mortal wounds, they cursed themselves for fools that they had taken up the queen’s cause.

        Charming and Snow fought side by side, he with his sword and dagger and she with her bow, each protecting the other from danger as they moved deftly to the center of the encampment in search of Regina.  The fairies flew overhead, dropping dust on the soldier’s that didn’t fall under the blade, and rendering them unconscious to be rounded up as prisoners when the battle was complete.  A blur of brown fur hurtled past Charming’s left shoulder and landed effortlessly atop a knight, its jaws making a sickening crunch as it tore through flesh and bone.  Lancelot hacked his way through a grouping of four knights off to their left, leaving nothing but destruction in his path and clearing the way for those that followed until they could reach the tent that housed the queen.

        A sudden shout ripped through the chaos from off to the right, “The king has fallen!  George is dead!”

        The knights that had pledged their allegiance to his army came to a sudden halt, unsure what to do now that their leader had met his demise. The White army sprang to action, cutting down several men before they had a chance to raise their swords once more. Those that managed to fight back didn’t last long, and the remaining band of gold-clad knights scattered off into the trees to lick their battle wounds. But the White army had little time to celebrate their small victory, as the queens forces had still yet to back down.    

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

        Regina huddled in her tent with her father and the hatter’s daughter, fuming that everything she had worked for was falling to pieces at her booted feet.  This was all Rumpelstiltskin’s fault! If she somehow survived, she would have her revenge against that twisted imp.  That unnatural mist reeked of his dark power.  It was his fault that she’d been stripped of her magic and she vowed to make him pay.

        “Regina, dear, perhaps if you ask for mercy-”

        Her head whipped around to glare at her father where he sat with a comforting arm around Grace’s shoulders as the child sobbed in fear, her hands covering her tear-streaked face.  “I will _NOT_ ask that insipid girl for mercy! I won’t do it.  She has done nothing but take everything that’s ever meant anything to me and I will not let her win!” she railed, stamping her foot.  “I-”

        Grace screamed, her high-pitched shrieks permeating the air as soldiers stormed through the tent flap, weapons drawn.  Rough hands grabbed for the queen and her father, but it was Lancelot himself that sheathed his sword and took Grace in his arms, whispering soothing nothings in her ear, telling her she was safe now and would see her father with all haste.  She wrapped her arms tightly about his neck and sobbed, a smile blooming on her face amidst the tears, the first to grace her angelic face since she’d been taken from her father and brought to the queen’s camp.

        Regina snarled and spit curses at her captors as she was dragged from the tent, a useless effort as her magic refused to do her bidding.  She was brought to stand before the Charmings, manacles glowing with the faint blue light of fairy magic secured about her wrists as Snow said, “Regina, you are under arrest for crimes against the kingdom.”  She blocked out the rest of her stepdaughter’s speech as the white magic weakened her to the point where she slumped against the soldier who held her arms and she had a sneaking suspicion that she would have fallen had the knight not been holding her up.

        “A hollow victory,” she spat, her voice filled with quiet menace.  “You may think you’ve won, but I _will_ triumph in the end.”

        Charming raked a frustrated hand through his hair as he witnessed the sorrow in Snow’s emerald eyes and nodded to the guards, “Take her away!”

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

        Belle stared worriedly at her beloved across the cauldron where he stood, his eyes glowing faintly through the mist.  The whites were gone, the irises obscured by the pupil.  He looked like the demon so many thought him to be. She could feel the shadows ebb and flow within him as he fought the dark power that inhabited his body, trying to maintain his precious control so the Dark One couldn’t lay full claim to his consciousness.  She kept a firm grip on his arm, their wrists still tightly pressed together as he swayed unsteadily on his feet, the incantation continuing to echo about the room falling in a constant stream from his lips.

        “Annal nathrach…oolthvas bethod…dochyel dyenve.”

        He was weakening and it frightened her.  The crystals glowed faintly, pulsing with power at the points of the pentagram.  The candles stuttered and the cauldron roiled and still he chanted.  How much longer could he go on like this, his power draining and leaving him vulnerable to the dark spirit that dwelled within?  The heat of the room was nearly unbearable and not for the first time she felt as though she were truly feeling the breath of the dragon.  Sweat rolled down her back and between her breasts and her hair clung wetly to her neck and face, but her discomfort was little in comparison to what he must be experiencing.

        The howl of a wolf, their signal to end the spell, three short yips and a long howl rent the air and Belle was finally able to draw a relieved breath.  “Rumpel, that’s enough.  It’s done, over.  You can stop.”

        Still he chanted, his eyes not registering that he’d even heard her.  She tugged on his hand, trying to gain his attention, but he merely stared back at her through those soulless black eyes and continued on with the spell, his voice flagging.  She reached behind her and wrapped her fingers around the handle of the dagger, this time ignoring the threads of power that travelled up her arm.  “Rumpelstiltskin, stop,” she said, her tone commanding.

        The sorcerer’s lips ceased their chanting and his head bowed, acknowledging her command and he released his tight grasp on her arm.  She pulled it back, noticing the faint finger marks along her pale skin, but was relieved to see her wrist had stopped bleeding.  No doubt from the magic of his blood that had been pouring into the wound, she thought.  Walking to the edge of the circle, she broke the salt ring with her bare toes and could feel the magic fade from the room as the mist began to dissipate. 

        Belle glanced over her shoulder at the mage as he stood stock still next to the cauldron, his chest heaving as he fought to regain control over himself and moved to the worktable to retrieve a clean towel.  Returning to his side, she lifted his chin and wiped the sweat from his brow, silent in her ministrations to offer him some comfort now that the work was done, the spell cast and victory achieved for the Charmings and their allies.  Soon, they would leave here and return home to fulfill the rest of their deal with one another and she couldn’t hold back the smile that bloomed on her lips.

        His eyes remained closed as she ran the cloth over his face and neck and then used it on herself.  “How do you feel?” she asked, studying his face in the dim light of the torches burning along the walls.

        Belle startled as his hands shot out to grab her hips and pull her forward into a crushing embrace, his arms trapping her against his chest as he buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply.  She moaned softly and relaxed against him as his tongue rasped against the creamy expanse of her throat and suckled gently at the sensitive flesh below her right ear.  But fear quickly replaced her mounting desire as a cold voice whispered against the shell of her ear, tingles of dread raising goosebumps along her flesh.

        “Hello, precious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OK, I know I’m an evil heartless wretch to leave you hanging, but seriously, how’d you like it??? I love this chapter sooooo much and I hope you do as well. I would have gotten it out sooner, but the past couple days have been super busy. Hope you can forgive me! I also hope that I did justice to the other characters in their fight to take the kingdom back from George and Regina. I can’t tell you how much I hope you all leave a comment to let me know what you think. One more chapter to go, dearies! So hang in there. Then I will be returning to Love Letters to send our lovers on their quest for Baelfire. Thank you all so much for your support and kind words. They mean so much to me. xoxoxxo.
> 
> For those who are curious, according to evertype.com, the spell is written in old Irish and translates into English as “Serpent’s breath, charm of death and life, thy omen of making.” I did not use the translation on the website, but rather the captions from the movie “Excalibur”.


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

        Belle clamped her lips together in a thin line, so tight it left them almost colorless. She closed her eyes against the horror that froze the blood in her veins and caused a violent tremor to skate up her spine.  That voice didn’t belong to the man she loved, the man she took tea with every day, laughed with, debated with, or merely sat with in companionable silence.  This wasn’t the voice that sent warmth and desire coursing through her body to leave her breathless with wanting.  No, this voice was cold, harsh, and cruel. This was the voice that instilled terror in even the bravest soul and sent mother’s rushing to hide their children.  But even as she knew in her heart the ugly truth, she couldn’t stop herself from finding out for certain.

        “R-Rumpel?” she stammered, cursing inwardly that she’d allowed her fear to make itself known in her stumbled words.

        Even the sound of his giggle was off as it trilled hollowly through the dungeon room.  She bit down hard on her lip as he lifted her, wrapping her legs about his waist and bore her the few steps it took to press her back into the stonewall. 

        “Guess again, precious,” he teased, biting down gently into the flesh of her shoulder and pressing his arousal against the heat of her core. “The spinner is out to lunch,” he taunted with a low, menacingly seductive growl in his throat, I suppose you’re stuck with me for a while.”

        Belle winced as his sharp teeth grazed her flesh, the acrid taste of fear flooding her mouth.  She froze, her limbs stiffening in his embrace as he shifted, and the dagger, still secured in the waistband of her trousers, dug into her lower back.  Rumpelstiltskin’s worst fear had come to fruition and now she was faced with a lusty unpredictable Dark One.  Her right hand fisted in the soft fabric of his tunic as she delved her left hand into his damp hair and curled her fingers around the locks.  She gave a sharp yank and he growled, gnashing his teeth against the pain as she forced his head back so she could look into his eyes.

        “You can put me down now,” Belle demanded in a succinct tone, giving him no room to interpret it any way but how she meant it.

        He pursed his lips in a pout as he quirked a brow at her.  She gave another sharp tug on his hair and the pout turned into a grimace.  “Do I have to?” he whined petulantly.  “I won’t hurt you, precious.”

        She smirked at him.  “Oh, I know.  Rumpel made sure of that when he gave me that dagger.  You can’t hurt me without hurting yourself, so I feel relatively safe.”

        He felt a few strands of his hair pull loose as he fought against her hold, closing enough distance between them to whisper against the corner of her mouth.  “You don’t have to use the dagger against me, my sweet.  I have no desire to harm you; quite the contrary, in fact.” He pressed her further into the stones at her back, grinding his hips against her. “I thought you found this form attractive.  What does it matter who’s driving?” he asked with a wicked grin.

        “Oh, it matters. Put. Me. Down…Now!” she hissed.  She landed hard on her backside as his hands dropped away from her, the dagger making him bow to her wishes.  She clambered to her feet and put some much needed distance between them.  “That was completely unnecessary.” 

        The Dark One shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.  “You didn’t say I had to be gentle,” he smiled impishly, but there was an evil light to his eyes that her Rumpel would never possess.

        She took several deep breaths, trying to reign in her temper.  She rubbed a hand over her wounded posterior and narrowed her eyes on him.  “What have you done with my Rumpel?”  When he refused to answer her cerulean eyes narrowed and her voice filled with disdain.  “Tell me,” she whispered harshly. It was hard for her to look at her beloved’s face, feel his hands on her flesh, and know that his body was being controlled by the demon, but she schooled her face into a calm mask, refusing to let him see her sorrow there.

        His lips curled back over his ruined teeth, balking over her commanding tone, but helpless to resist the thrall of the kris.  “Fear not, precious,” he sneered.  “Your spinner is still in here…unfortunately.”

        She couldn’t keep the worried frown from puckering her brow and she reached out involuntarily to lay a hand on his forearm.  “Please, is he alright?”

        The grin that split his lips was vile, sinister, and completely out of place on Rumpelstiltskin’s face.  She’d never thought to see something like that and her stomach twisted viciously.  His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded as he glanced down at her restraining hand before rising to meet hers again.  “So, so worried, are we, precious?  Feeling guilty for making him go through with such a dangerous piece of magic?” he jeered.

        Belle stiffened her spine and glared at him through pointed eyes.  “It was to end the conflict, to rid the realm of Regina and George’s tyranny and attain peace.  Rumpel agreed because it was the right thing to do.”

        The Dark One scoffed. “Horseshit!  He did it because of you!  Because he couldn’t bear to disappoint his _precious princess_ ,” the Dark One spat the words in her face, thoroughly disgusted that the spinner coward had actually come crawling out of his hole for this slip of a girl, “his little dearie.  It’s fucking nauseating the way he moons over you.”  He watched her whirl away from him with a satisfied smirk, pleased that he’d managed to upset the girl. 

        _Leave her alone!_ The voice in his head reverberated against the sides of his skull like a hammer to an anvil and he ground his teeth against the pain, but he’d be damned if he would stop before she knew the truth.  “Everything was perfect before he brought _you_ to the castle.”

        She rubbed her hands over her arms, trying to chase away the chill that danced along her spine.  “He saved my people…he saved _me_ ,” she breathed, swallowing around the lump of emotion that threatened to choke her.

        “You made him weak!” the demon hissed furiously.  “After he lost his boy, he retreated into the farthest recesses of his mind to escape the pain.  I was the one who picked him up and made him into what he is.  Deal after deal, the deaths, the carnage.  You should have seen it, _precious_ ,” he whispered against her ear as his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against his body.  “It was glorious.  And then that pompous king, so desperate and distraught, called for the Dark One and I couldn’t resist.  I just had to see what agony I could inflict upon the noble.”

        Belle remained perfectly still in his harsh embrace, silent tears leaving salty trails down her ashen face.  She wanted to cover her ears to block out the bile spewing from his lips, but at the same time she craved the words that she’d longed to hear since first coming to the Dark Castle. This proved it…Rumpel, _her_ Rumpel, was not the monster he always believed himself to be. 

        “How was I to know the presence of the king’s brat would wake the spinner?” the imp lamented, his hot breath fanning against her neck as he dipped his head to rake his teeth against the sensitive flesh.  “He was quite taken with you from the beginning.  He _begged_ for you,” he purred.  “Would you like to know why I agreed?”

        Belle pushed out of his arms and turned to face him.  “He said to rid my kingdom of the ogres, it required a great price.”

        The demon’s eyes flashed and a maniacal giggle rent the air.  “Indeed, but that’s not why I chose you.  He was so smitten with you, I thought you’d make for an entertaining plaything.  You should have heard his shrieks of outrage when I brought you home to the Dark Castle and tossed you into the dungeon.”  Before she could blink, he was there towering over her, intimidating her with his presence.  “His suffering was nearly…orgasmic.”

        Belle took a step back only to find herself pressed against the wall there.  Her heart bled for what her Rumpel must have suffered at this trickster’s hands.  She’d always been able to see the good in him, the man he’d been before he’d taken on the curse, the man he was when the demon was firmly locked away and he could be himself.  “You’re disgusting.”

        The demon covered his heart with one taloned hand as his mouth dropped open in affront.  “How sweet of you to compliment me so, _precious_.”

        Belle rolled her eyes.

        “But the nastier I was to you, the harder the spinner fought his way to the surface…until he finally broke free.  Then it was _my_ turn to sulk and brood in the little corner of his mind I was banished to.  No more fun for me…all because of _you_ ,” he sneered.  “And now you’re bound to him…to us.  Now his _feelings_ for you have crept into my blood and instead of killing you as I’d longed to do for sooooo long…”

        Belle quirked a brow, her lips parting on a gasp at his admittance.  “You don’t want to kill me any longer?”

        “No,” he said in a clipped tone as he lunged for her, grabbing her roughly and trapping her within the circle of his arms and burying his face in the crook of her neck.  “Now I just want to fuck you until you scream,” he purred in a seductive whisper, but his eyes flashed with a devilish darkness that made Belle shake down to the very core of her soul. Looking at him, she wasn’t staring into warm and loving amber orbs that wanted her for all she was. No, she was gazing into the depths of hell, into dark, torturous nights and a terrifying existence alongside a monster if she didn’t find a way to stop this and bring her real True Love to light again. “You’re bound to me just as securely as you are to the spinner for as long as he lives.  You’re mine and I want to hear you scream for me instead of that pitiful excuse for a man.  I want to feel your pain, let it wrap around me and feed my soul.”

        Her scream pierced the stillness of the dungeon as he sank his sharp teeth into the soft flesh of her neck and shoulder, terror freezing the blood in her veins.  And just as quickly she was released.  Slowly she opened her eyes as his cries of agony reached her ears, to find him writhing on the stone floor, convulsions wracking his wiry frame.  It took her a moment to remember that any distress he caused would rebound on him tenfold through the dagger and she smiled in satisfaction as she knelt beside him.

        She placed a firm hand in the center of his chest and glared at him.  “I will _never_ be yours.  I bound myself to _Rumpel_ , not you, never _you_ ,” she hissed fervently.  “Now give him back.”

        He calmed enough to laugh at her, the sound like breaking glass to her sensitive ears.  “It’s your fault he’s trapped in here.  He was so determined to keep me from you, he used too much magic.  Remember what the spell did to Merlin, precious?”

        “Nine moons,” she said in a horrified whisper.

        “By the time I let him out, you might not even want him anymore.  Then we’ll see if you choose me instead.”

        “You have to obey.  Give him back to me!” she cried.  He shrugged and gave himself over the to the darkness the spinner dwelled in, the smile fading from his lips and the soulless blackness of his eyes returning the warm amber hue she loved so well.  She struggled to lift him until his head rested on her lap and carded her shaking fingers through the curls at his temples.  She felt the darkness recede until she could sense only him, the man she loved and the tenderness he’d shown her throughout the last half a year.  She could feel him just beneath the surface, just waiting to wake and rejoin the land of the living, just waiting to return to her.  But how long would she have to wait to have him back?

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

        Belle didn’t know how long she’d been sitting on the stone floor of the dungeon room, cradling Rumpelstiltskin on her lap.  It could have been minutes, hours, or even days, but she couldn't find it in herself to care.  She couldn’t, _wouldn’t,_ leave him; not even long enough to find someone to tell her the outcome of the battle.  Had Snow’s forces been victorious?  She only knew the signal had come to end the spell, not whether or not they’d been successful.  She shifted, the arm she had wrapped securely about his shoulders tightening and pulling him further into her embrace so she could lean forward and press another kiss to his brow.

        She stared dumbly at the moisture on his face and pulled her hand from the curls at his temples to wipe it away.  It was a fruitless effort as her tears continued to rain down on him.  The bite on her neck was painful, but at least the bleeding had stopped after a few small trickles of blood had made it past the neckline of her tunic.  A shudder wracked her petite frame as she thought of the Dark One, wondering how Rumpelstiltskin had managed to control the fiend for so long.  Would he somehow prohibit her love from waking, or was her spinner stronger than the demon?  She needed him to return to her and didn’t care how long it took.  She’d never leave him, she vowed, slowly trailing her shaking fingers along the curve of his jaw.  He was hers and she would let no harm come to him in this state.  He’d gone so far as to protect her by giving her the dagger, and now it was her turn to protect him and shield him from those who would seek to harm him.  She couldn’t bring herself to trust anyone, even the new friends she’d made in the short time she’d been at the White Castle.

        She felt so alone, left with nothing but her sleeping imp and the images that continued to plague her weary mind.  How was she to ever sort through it all?  Is this what he would see when he finally collected his price and delved deeply into her mind and heart?  Would he see her life before she’d come into his home, her childhood, her formative years, her hopes and fears?  Would all be revealed to him as his had been bared to her?  Her mental eye was filled with so many images, it made her head hurt, the most vivid among them a young boy with dark curls, dark eyes and a rather impish grin that reminded her of a wily sorcerer.  More tears fell from her lashes as she experienced his terror at watching the boy disappear into a swirling green vortex.  At least now she knew what had happened to his son.  He’d been so reluctant to share that with her, and now he didn’t have to.  She’d seen it through his own eyes.   So many deaths, so many deals, too many for her to keep track of.  She just wanted to push the images to the back of her mind and curl up with him to sleep.  The spell and then having to deal with a lusty Dark One, intent on spreading his evil, had taken more out of her than she’d suspected.

        Belle curled protectively over the mage. Before she could drift off into peaceful oblivion, her hand coiling around the hilt of the kris as a commotion in the outer room drew her attention away from the turmoil of her beloved’s memories that still sought to plague her.  She craned her neck, her ears perking up as two guards entered the room, dragging a struggling Regina between them to the cell directly opposite Belle.  Two knights followed behind them, one holding a crossbow while the other moved to unlock the cell and pull the door open.  Belle watched, horrified as the guards shoved Regina unceremoniously into the cell.  She’d never seen the queen in such a disheveled state. 

        Regina looked as though she’d been scrubbed raw, her skin red and glistening, her hair hanging in a dark swath down her back and tumbling wetly over her shoulders.  No longer did she wear her form fitting, jewel encrusted gowns; instead a course brown shift like dress hung loosely on her regal frame.  _She looks awful,_ Belle thought with a smug smile.  After her treachery, it was only fitting that she would linger in the dank cell until her fate could be decided.

        “Filthy peasants,” Regina spat at the guards as she spun on her heel and watched the door clang shut.  As the key turned, a faint blue glimmer of fairy magic sealed the cell, leaving the former queen powerless and alone.  Belle thought it poetic justice that the queen found herself on the opposite side of the bars.  How many had languished and suffered in her own dungeons before wrongfully being judged and subsequently put to death?

        Belle’s lips brushed the sorcerer’s ear as she whispered, “They’ve done it, my love.  Regina is no longer a threat.”

        The guards moved to a rough wooden table and sat down in the chairs set next to it to watch over the queen as the two knights left, taking the stone stairs two at a time in their haste to return to the celebration above in the Great Hall.  Regina glared at them, taking in her surroundings, sneering in disgust at the dank cell she’d been forced into.  And then her eyes narrowed as they fell onto a pair of bare green-gold feet in the room opposite her. 

        “Well, well, well,” she mocked, her lips curling up at the corners in a satisfied smile.  “Seems the twisted imp was responsible after all.  I thought I could smell his magic in that fog.”  Belle didn’t acknowledge her as she continued to card her fingers through his hair.  She didn’t have the strength to enter into a battle of wit with the Evil Queen.  “And his faithful little maid, too.”

        “Shut it, you!” one of the guards called out.

        Regina ignored him, pressing her face between the bars to see better.  “Or are you the Dark One’s whore?  All used up!” she hissed, the last word accompanied by a resounding pop of her lips.

        Belle snorted.  “If you knew him, really knew him, you would realize how preposterous your claims are,” she said softly, unable to resist coming to the imp’s defense.

        Regina laughed long and loud.  “Oh, I know him quite well, my dear.  After all, he made me into what I am today,” she said when her laughter had died down to a few chuckles.  “Every spell, every potion, every charm I learned under his tutelage. He’s an evil bastard, but I’m sure you already know that.  Then again, you might not.  True Love’s kiss apparently didn’t work to break his curse, so perhaps I was wrong and he doesn’t love you.  Or were you too repulsed by him to even try, I wonder.  Can’t say as I blame you.”

        “I said to shut it, witch!” the second guard commanded.

        “Let her speak,” Belle said.  “She’s powerless and afraid and lashing out; leave her be.”

        “Aww how gracious of you, pet,” Regina simpered in a sing-song voice.  It grated on Belle’s already raw and battered nerves, but she refused to retaliate in kind.  But Regina wouldn’t let up.  “Soooo, _did_ you try to break his curse?  You can tell me…just between us girls.”

        Belle cut her eyes in Regina’s direction and smiled.  “I really need to thank you for that chat we had on the road that day, _Your Majesty_.” The beauty’s voice bore a slight taunting edge as she addressed the queen with her title. 

        “Oh?’ Regina asked, trying to sound nonchalant though the answer had her dying of curiosity.

        “Mhmm,” Belle replied.  “It made me think long and hard about my true feelings for Rumpel and sent me straight to the library to find out as much as I could about his curse.  It was very illuminating.”

        “Illuminating,” Regina repeated, bile churning in her stomach at the thought of the little maid finding happiness with the imp.  He didn’t deserve happiness after denying the queen her own.  “But True love can break any curse.”

        “Not Rumpel’s,” Belle said, a soft smile curving her lips as she looked down into his sleeping face.

        Regina fought hard to hide her surprise at this admission. A part of her wanted to be smug and believe that the girl was nothing but an idealist little bookworm who, for some ungodly reason, actually found the imp _attractive_ , and therefore had not tried to kiss him. But she could see by the confidence and compassion in the girl’s icy gaze that it was more than that. The Dark One’s curse was truly unbreakable. _Dammit,_ she seethed. Then her lips curled upward as a manipulative idea began to form in her mind. The implette was closest to the bastard mage; surly she knew where the dagger was hidden. If only Regina could make her reveal its hiding place… “So, there is no way to get rid of that dastardly curse?” she asked, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.      

         Belle’s eyes narrowed to slits as she gazed suspiciously at the imprisoned queen, piercing right through her false façade. “None but the cursed dagger. When the ancient Gods created this realm, they wanted to be sure no one could ever rid it of their spirit, their Guardian of Darkness, if you will, from this world, so they enchanted the curse from all harm but the single blade.”

        “And have you tried to find it, this dagger? I know of your deal, implette, I have many spies whom are still loyal to me. There was no other way for him to accomplish such an ancient feat. You are bound to him now, yes?”

        Belle clenched her fists at her sides and refused to speak.

        Regina scoffed, “Well, surely you don’t want to be bound to a sparkly temperamental lizard,” she smirked at the nickname, “If you found the dagger, well… all deals would be forgotten,” she finished with a suggestive grin. 

        Belle’s nostrils flared, but she clutched the hilt of the blade behind her back and managed to cool her temper. “Oh, there’s no need to find it. I _have_ it.” She withdraw the knife from behind her back,” enjoying the enraged shock that graced Regina’s regal features when she saw it.  “And as long as I do, _no one_ will be able to harm him.”

        Regina looked at her, disgust curling her lip up and wrinkling the bridge of her nose.  She knew it would be nigh impossible to get the dagger from the girl, even with all her cleverness and tricks to back her up…if she ever got out of the cell.  Belle would use every one of her wits to keep it from her.  She didn’t have magic, yet Regina felt the little princess wouldn’t need it.  “Gods, you really do love him.”  It was then she noticed the stillness of her former mentor.  “What happened? The magic he cast to help the Charmings capture me, more than he could handle?  I have to say he never taught me anything so complex,” she said bitterly.  

        Belle shifted her shoulders, her hair falling over him like a curtain to block Regina’s view of the mage, but didn’t deny her an answer.  “He merely needs to rest.”

        “I hope he dies,” she hissed.  “I—“

        Her words were cut off by the vicious snarling of a wolf as Red bounded down the stone staircase and skidded to a halt before the cell door, making Regina back away, fearful of her snapping jaws even through the bars.  Snow, Charming and Lancelot weren’t far behind.          “Red,” Snow said firmly.  The large brown wolf snapped once more at the queen and then trotted across the stone floor to Belle’s side, her fur shimmering as she transformed back into a girl.

        Snow ignored Regina and knelt at Belle’s side, laying a hand on her shoulder.  It was the breaking point for Belle and the tears came in a torrent, streaming down her ashen face.  She clutched Rumpelstiltskin’s prone form closer to her chest, his face resting on her bosom as Red and Snow wrapped their arms about the girl in a gesture of comfort.  Lancelot stood at attention, but turned his back to give them the privacy they needed while Charming dropped to one knee in front of them.

        “Milady, what happened?  Did something go wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.  “Is he—“

        “No!” Belle cried, shaking her head furiously, her chestnut locks bouncing.  “He just used a bit too much magic.  He’s resting,” she said, her voice trailing off in a subdued murmur.

        “Is there anything we might do for you?  For Rumpelstiltskin?” he asked, relieved the imp hadn’t died.  He didn’t want the little princess to suffer any more than she already had and he was sure the dealmaker’s death wouldn’t bode well…for anyone.  For the time being, at least, the mage had thrown in his lot with the White forces and Charming was thankful to have such a powerful ally on their side.

        Snow squeezed Belle’s shoulders reassuringly.  “Of course we will do anything in our power to make you comfortable.”  She caught Red’s eye and said, “Red, have Marissa prepare the blue room, the one with the nice terrace that overlooks the lake.  I think our guests will be more than comfortable there for the time being.”

        “The one in the rainbow wing?’ Red asked with a snicker and a wide grin.

        Snow rolled her eyes and whispered, “I wish you’d stop calling it that.”

        “I’m not the one who decorated all the rooms there in a different color,” Red retorted in a sing-song melody, rising to her feet with a wink to Belle and hurrying from the room to find the housekeeper.

        Snow rubbed a comforting hand over Belle’s back, feeling a kinship with the younger girl.  “You’ll stay with us until you and Rumpelstiltskin can return home to the Dark Castle.  And your friend Jefferson will be in the next room so you’ll never lack for companionship while you’re here.”

        Belle sniffled and shook her head.  “I couldn’t impose on you.”

        “Hush.  You are not imposing,” Snow assured her.  “Let us do this for you.”

        “Wait!  You found Grace?  You were able to bring her home to Jeff?” she asked, hope blooming in her breast.

“Yes,” Charming said, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.  “She was safe and unharmed just as Rumpelstiltskin predicted.”  She breathed a relieved sigh, happy that something good had come out of Rumpelstiltskin’s sacrifice.

Belle still wasn’t certain as to whether or not staying with the Charmings was such a fantastic idea, as there were too many things that could go wrong in a castle that housed so many.  There were always those that would seek to harm her beloved and how was she to protect him?  It would be better to have him safely behind the wards of the Dark Castle, but how was she to get him there?

        Charming nodded in agreement.  “It would be too perilous to try to transport the Dark One home in his condition,” he said, reading the conflict on her lovely features.  “Please, stay with us for as long as you need.”

        Belle turned her luminous cerulean eyes on Snow, still hesitant.  “But—“

        “No buts, Belle,” Snow said softly, her soft pink lips turning up in a warm smile.  “Let us do this for you.”

        Belle finally agreed, nodding, but she was reluctant to release the death grip she had on her sorcerer as Charming took his arm and Lancelot the other, supporting the unconscious mage between them.  They left the room with Belle and Snow following behind and Regina’s cackles over her former mentor’s plight echoing in their ears.

 

X*X*X*X*X

       

        “As soon as we get you settled, I’ll have someone retrieve your trunk from the dungeon,” Snow said, taking the extra blankets from her housekeeper and laying them at the foot of the bed.

        Belle pushed past Charming and Lancelot, eager to see to her sorcerer, answering absently.  “No need, but thank you.  Rumpel charmed the trunk to follow us wherever we went.  At least until we return home.”

        Snow’s brows disappeared somewhere in her hairline as she felt the presence of magic in the room.  She turned to her fiancée in question, but he was already staring at the small trunk at his feet, having nearly tripped over it at the foot of the bed.  “Well,” she said a bit too brightly in her discomfiture.  “I suppose that comes in handy.”

        Belle brushed her fingertips gently along Rumpelstiltskin’s jaw, so tired and weary and simply wishing the royals would leave them be, but it was too ingrained in her to forget her manners.   She was so focused on him, she hadn’t even bothered to take in her surroundings, only briefly glancing at the room as she’d followed her hosts.

        It was one of Snow’s more opulent guest rooms and they would be comfortable for the duration of their say, however long that would be.  It was furnished in soft tones of gold and blue.  There was a massive four poster canopy bed draped in a royal blue and gold satin coverlet and mounds of soft goose down pillows, sheer blue curtains tied to the posts with gold cord.  A small writing desk sat against one wall.  A bookcase that would surely have her fingers itching to explore sat next to it.  There was a hearth already lit with a small fire with a sofa and several chairs before it and a low table with a tea service.  A soft Agrabahan carpet covered the polished wooden floors and a wide archway led out onto a small balcony that did indeed look out over the lake that surrounded the castle.  If circumstances had been different, Belle could see herself enjoying her stay, but her worry over her beloved kept any happy feelings from rising to the surface.

        Red sank down into one of the plush upholstered chairs and hid a huge yawn behind her hand.  “So how long is Rumpels going to be down for the count?” she asked, swinging her legs up to drape over the arm of the chair.

        “Red,” Snow admonished wearily, pinching the bridge of her nose.  She cast Charming a quelling glance as he chuckled over the moniker Red had dubbed the sorcerer.  “Out!  The lot of you,” she commanded.

        Lancelot bowed to his princess.  “I shall be right outside.”

        Red frowned.  “Aren’t you coming to the celebration?”

        “Rumpelstiltskin charged me with Lady Belle’s safety.  I will remain to watch over her,” he explained.  He turned to Belle who merely nodded, accepting his word.  She’d wondered why he’d wanted her out of the room so badly that afternoon and now she had her answer.  She would have protested and he’d wanted to avoid an argument.  “Percy can spell me at dawn.”

        Charming and Red followed, leaving Snow alone with her new friend.  She moved to the tea service the servants had left for them and poured Belle a cup of the steaming brew.  “The door there,” she said, pointing to a solid oak door next to the wardrobe, “leads into the yellow room.  We’ve prepared it for your use so you can remain near Rumpelstiltskin.”

        Belle took the cup and shuddered as the bland brew hit her palate.  She desperately hoped she’d remembered to pack her own blend in the trunk.  “I won’t need the extra room, your highness, but thank you.  I will stay here.”

        “Oh,” Snow said, surprised.  She wrapped one arm around her middle and chewed the thumbnail of the other nervously.  “I-I mean, do you think that wise, Belle?”

        Before Belle could answer, a team of servants trooped through the suite carrying buckets of hot water which they dumped into the copper tub hidden off in the corner behind a dressing screen.  When they’d departed, she sighed and leveled the princess with a steely look of determination.  “I will not leave him.  He’s vulnerable like this; he needs me.  Propriety be damned.”

        “But Belle, what if—“

        She cut the princess off with a dismissive wave of her hand, the mark on her wrist drawing her stare.  She thrust out her wrist to show Snow the smooth cut in her creamy flesh.  “Do you see this?”  She lifted Rumpelstiltskin’s hand and revealed the matching mark on his arm.  “We are bound.  A cleric, monk or priest couldn’t have bound us more closely than the magic he performed this evening.  He’s as good as my husband and I will not be separated from him.  If you insist, I’m certain I could make arrangements for transportation home.”  She sighed heavily when a blush rose to kiss Snow’s fair cheeks.  “I’m sorry.  I just think it a bit unnecessary to keep us apart.  I’ve been alone with him for almost a year now and it is hard for me to have to explain my actions to others after all this time.”

        Snow rushed to reassure her.  “No, no, Belle, I’m the one who should apologize.  You shouldn’t have to explain anything to me.”

        “I’m just not used to having anyone to answer to aside from Rumpel,” Belle said with a small dry laugh that sounded odd issuing from her lips.

        Snow smiled in understanding and laid a hand upon the younger girl’s shoulder.  “I’ll leave you to your bath.  If there’s anything you need, just ring the bell pull, ok?  Maybe we can talk more tomorrow?”

        “Certainly.  I’d rather like that.”

        Snow left, only to run directly into the hatter as he came barreling into the room.  “Belle!  God’s teeth, are you ok?  You look like hell,” he said, pulling her up off the bed where she sat next to her sorcerer and hugging her tightly.

        “Thank you, Jefferson,” she said, chuckling softly and pushing out of his arms.  “Don’t worry about me; how is little Gracie?  Is she alright?”

        Jefferson raked a hand through his wild hair and huffed out a sigh.  “She is; she’s good.  Sleeping right now.  She was exhausted when Lance brought her here, so we got her cleaned up and warm and tucked into bed.  She’ll probably sleep til morning, I suppose.  But I want to hear about what happened with you…and why does Rum look like he’s dead?”

        Belle rolled her eyes and disappeared behind the screen.  “I’m sorry, but I want to have my bath before the water grows cold,” she called.  He hummed his agreement and took advantage of the tea service, pouring himself a cup.

        “Gah!!! Who made this swill?”

        “Awful, isn’t it?” she agreed, stripping out of her tunic and trousers and slipping into the soothing heat of the water.  She told the hatter the details of what had happened during the spell, leaving out the emergence of the Dark One.  That would be kept between her and Rumpelstiltskin.  She didn’t feel her friend needed to know.

        It didn’t take her long to scrub the filth of the dungeon, sweat and blood from her small frame and the long locks of her chestnut hair.  She rose from the tub and toweled off quickly, wrapping the silk dressing robe she found hanging from the screen about her still damp form.

        “So you don’t even know how long he’s going to sleep…if that’s even what he’s doing?  What if he never comes out of it?” Jefferson asked worriedly, abandoning his tea cup on the coffee table to embrace her again when she emerged from behind the screen.  “What are you doing with that?”

        She worried her lower lip between her teeth and tamped down the fear that rose in her.  “He will wake; he just needs time for his power to recover.  And this,” she said, indicating the bucket of fresh water that had been left behind, “is for Rumpel.  Will you help me?  I really don’t want to have to summon one of the maids.”  Not that they’d want to stay and help her with the task.

        “I suppose it’s the least I can do…for you, precious girl.”

        Belle shuddered as she moved to the side of the bed.  If she never heard that name again for several centuries, it would be too soon.  They worked in silence as they stripped the sorcerer of his filthy clothes and cleaned the dirt from his green gold skin, finally dressing him in a clean pair of sleeping pants Belle found in their trunk.  It was warm enough, especially with the fire in the hearth, that he didn’t need a sleeping shirt.  She had Jefferson tug back the coverlet from beneath him and then helped her tuck the sorcerer in for his long period of rest.

        She hid a wide yawn, turning away slightly.  “So how long will you and Grace be staying here at the palace?”

        “We’ve been invited to stay indefinitely.  I think we might just stay until Rum is back on his feet.  You could use an ally here, someone you trust.”

        He looked fondly between the beauty and her mage before resting his hands on her shoulders and giving her a light squeeze.  “I’m glad he has you.  He’s been alone for far too long in that mausoleum.  You’ve brought out a different side in him; makes him not quite so beastly.”

        “He’s not a beast,” she denied, refusing to dwell on the _real_ dark side of him that made his temperamental mood swings look like children playing in the sandbox.  “He’s a good man,” she murmured, almost to herself as she tried again to banish the horrors of his counterpart from her mind. Otherwise he’d never have cast that spell tonight.”

        Jefferson chuckled wryly.  “Don’t delude yourself, my girl,” he said, making his way to the door so he could retire with his daughter.  “He did that spell _only_ because _you_ asked him.  He doesn’t give a fig about the royals and you know it.”

        Belle stared at the closed door for several moments before disappearing behind the screen once more to retrieve the dagger where she’d left it under her discarded clothing.  She knew Jefferson was right about Rumpelstiltskin’s motives for casting the spell and it made her feel worse for his present condition.  She stared down at the dagger in her hand before squaring her shoulders stubbornly and moving to their trunk.  She dug through its bottomless depths until she found two garters, sliding them both about her right thigh and then securing the dagger to her leg.  She could take no chances that it would fall into the wrong hands.  Having him under someone’s control, even her own, was unthinkable, but she was firm in the knowledge that she could give the power right back to him the moment he woke.  Others wouldn’t be quite so willing to relinquish it given the choice.

        _But the others_ want _his power,_ she reminded herself. Belle didn’t desire control over anyone, especially her Rumpel. And that, she knew, was in part the reason he had entrusted her with it. Still, she felt she’d be able to rest easier if it was on her person rather than hidden away in their suite.

        Her fingers twisted as she fidgeted, her lip captured between her teeth as she stood next to the bed.  Instead of climbing in as she longed to do, she moved about the suite, extinguishing the candles and throwing the bolt on the door.  She moved to the balcony and looked over to the jagged rocks below, confident no one would be getting in that way.  She even threw the bolt on the door that connected their suite with the one Snow had offered her before.  The room was secure and the tightness in her chest seemed to ease as she finally felt relaxed enough to drag her weary body back to the bed.  She noticed the trembling in her limbs had finally ceased as she reached out to pull the sheer curtains closed about the bed.  Lifting the comforter she slid between the cool sheets to the center of the bed where her sorcerer rested.

        Belle curled herself against his side, smoothing her cool fingers over his brow, brushing his soft brown curls away from his eyes.  He looked peaceful, more peaceful than she’d ever seen him.  When he was awake, he was either animated in his gestures, or brooding and silent.  She’d never seen him where he was at rest with himself and the universe.  Oh, what she wouldn’t give to see him prancing in irritation or gleeful over a deal.  Her hand trailed down along his jaw and over the bare expanse of his chest to settle over his heart as her tears began in earnest, flowing over her pale cheeks and slipping silently onto her pillow.

        “Come back to me, Rum, please?” she whispered, moving her head to rest it gently against his shoulder, letting the even sounds of his breathing and the slow rise and fall of his chest bring her comfort.  “I love you,” she breathed, the pull of slumber finally too much for her to bear.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know, I know…I said one more chapter…this should have been the end. HOWEVER…I feel the need to torture you, dearies, by making you wait for the last installment. I just couldn’t fit everything in here all within my word count. I’m sorry, but hey you have another chapter to look forward to!!! And the next one will be the last one…promise!! I am so sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out to you. I’ve been working on it every day, BUT my beta insisted that I rewrite the entire first section bc she claimed my Dark One was entirely too OOC. She said this version is much better, which makes me feel better, which well…you know. I would like to thank my beta, FaerieTales4ever, for putting up with my tedious behind and keeping me on the right track and also for helping me with my Regina problems. She’s awesome and I cannot live without her.
> 
> A great big shout out to my awesome readers and reviewers!!! I love each and every comment I get and even if I don’t respond, know that I cherish every word.


	6. Chapter 6

         “Lady Belle, aren’t you going to join us?” Grace called from the archway leading out onto the balcony in Belle’s suite.

        Belle smiled and shooed her back out onto the balcony with the others.  “Yes, sweetling, in a moment,” she assured the girl, watching her skip off to join Snow, Jefferson, and Red for her afternoon tea party.

        She sighed and moved to the bed where her sorcerer lay, so still and unmoving, just as he’d been for the past five weeks.  Laying a hand to his brow, she checked for any change in his breathing, the deep even breaths and the steady rise and fall of his chest brought her some measure of comfort.  Dropping a feather light kiss to the corner of his mouth and smoothing the coverlet over his waist, she stepped back and drew the sheer curtains around the bed before moving to the archway to join her friends.

        The White kingdom was finally settling into some semblance of order with Regina still a prisoner in Snow’s dungeon.  Belle worried that Rumpelstiltskin wouldn’t be happy to find the queen had managed a stay of execution, much less that it was Belle’s doing.  But she’d been having disturbing dreams about her sorcerer. They all revolved around the queen and some task that it was imperative she carry out. 

Charming and the entire council, save Snow White herself, had been unanimous in their decision to have the dethroned queen put to death.  Lancelot and Percy, Belle’s ever present guards had been quick to relay the news that the prince and princess were at odds over the queen’s fate.  If it hadn’t been for the nightmares that plagued her, Belle wouldn’t have known how to help them, but she knew Rumpelstiltskin needed the queen to live. 

Therefore, Belle had demanded a stay of execution for Regina as the price for the Dragon’s Breath spell they’d performed.  Charming had been subdued in his anger, bowing to her wishes only until Rumpelstiltskin woke, Snow was curious, and Grumpy had turned red in the face and left for the nearest pub to bury his rage in a keg of ale, dragging his brothers along with him.

Snow had seemed relieved the decision had been postponed, giving her more time to think on the matter, and grateful for Belle’s interference.  So many things were changing in the kingdom, just as they were in the castle.  Snow and Charming had been forced to settle into a routine, part of which included holding court and listening to the complaints and pleas of their subjects.  No longer was Snow free to run wild through the forest dressed in deer hide.  Now she had to dress the part of the princess she’d been born to be and was often seen in lovely gowns with her long ebony locks piled and twisted into elegant coiffures.  Red was somewhat happy to be her lady in waiting, however she still looked forward to her three days of wolf’s time when she could run free throughout the kingdom, the soft loam of the forest cool beneath her paws.

Belle looked out at her friends, enjoying their tea, especially now that Jefferson had shown the kitchen staff how to brew a decent pot, and scratched absently at the bite mark on her neck.  It was a sore subject between her and her new friends.  They’d all asked about it, but it wasn’t a subject she wished to discuss with them.  Rumpelstiltskin was no doubt going to blame himself when he saw it.  After five weeks, it was merely a thin scar, but it itched her at times and no matter how much she scratched at it, she could find no relief.  She was hoping her mage could heal it fully when he awoke, but if it was just another price she was forced to pay, so be it.

She looked out over the lake and lifted her face to the fresh breeze of early autumn.  It made her wonder if the first snows had fallen at the Dark Castle.  How she longed to return to her home and begin her new life with Rumpelstiltskin.  It seemed an impossible dream.  The longer he remained in his stasis like state, the more she worried.  She ate little and slept even less.  She was cranky from the lack of rest and distrustful to all, keeping the doors of the suite locked unless Lancelot or Percy assured her it was safe to open them.  Belle simply missed the safety of the Dark Castle and the peace she had there.

“Belle, come on!” Jefferson called out to her. “Join us.”

Snow hummed in agreement and moved her wide skirts to the side so Belle could sit next to her.  Belle accepted a cup of the fragrant hibiscus tea and smiled at Grace over the rim. 

“You look a bit pale, Belle,” Snow remarked in a casual tone, trying to hide the worry she felt for her friend.  “You need more sun.”

Red snorted, popping a biscuit into her mouth.  “I’ve seen cirrus clouds with more color than our dear Belle,” she said, brushing crumbs from the skirt of her deep red gown.

Belle smiled, if you could call the slight twitching of her lips such.  “I get plenty of sun here on the balcony,” she replied, setting her empty cup down on the low table and sitting back wearily against the cushions at her back.

Jefferson opted to change the subject, knowing it was useless to try to coax her from the suite and the sorcerer’s side.  She had rebuffed all requests to join them in activities available in the castle, refusing to leave him alone, afraid the moment he did, something dire would befall him.  “Have you received word from you father since the last letter you sent?” he asked.

“I have,” Belle answered, her gaze falling to her hands clasped upon her lap.  “I fear he’s not at all happy that Rumpel let me go and I chose to remain with him instead of returning home to Avonlea.  I’m afraid he thinks me quite mad,” she finished with a bitter laugh.

Snow reached out and twined her fingers with Belle’s in a gesture of comfort.  “Perhaps if he knew you loved Rumpelstiltskin, that he made you happy, he would change his mind?”

Belle smiled weakly.  “As much as I love my father, he is more interested in a political union for his heir rather than my happiness.  I would have married sooner or later and left him behind, but it distresses me to know that should I wish to visit, my Rumpel will not be welcome.”

Red set her cup down and rolled her eyes.  “Some men are entirely too selfish.”

“I agree, but it is what it is. And I won’t go to Avonlea without Rumpel.  He doesn’t trust my father farther than he can see him, sometimes I think not even then.  I will continue to write to him, but I will not change my mind.  That part of my life is over.”

“I don’t think I ever want to get married,” Grace said, hugging the little stuffed rabbit upon her lap.  “I always want to be with my Papa.”

Snow grinned widely.  “That’s because you have a very special papa, Gracie.”

“Is Prince James really going to take us riding this afternoon?” the young girl asked, her eyes alight with excitement.

Red began collecting their cups and returning them to the tray.  “Yes he is, squirt.  Won’t that be fun?” she asked.  “We need to get you changed into your riding habit if we’re to be ready on time.”

Grace bobbed a curtsy to Snow and Belle and followed Red from the room, anxious to be ready in time for her riding lesson with the prince. 

Snow rose to her feet.  “Belle, why don’t you come with us today?  You’ve been cooped up in this room for five weeks.  It’s not healthy.”

“I won’t leave him, Snow, I’m sorry,” Belle said, rising and moving to the archway to look in on her beloved.  “What if he wakes and I’m not here?  He’s in strange surroundings and should he wake and—“

“He’s in a bloody coma, Belle,” Jefferson grumbled, moving to stand at her back and resting his large hands on her shoulders.  “It’s not as if he’s going to suddenly wake while you’re out enjoying yourself for one afternoon.  Besides, you’re bound to him.  He would be able to sense wherever you were.  Isn’t that what you told me?”

Belle wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold back the tears that welled behind her eyes.  “Yes, but regardless, I _will_ be here, not out gallivanting in the countryside while he lies here still as death.”  She caught the look shared between the princess and the hatter and gnashed her teeth together furiously.  “You can stop conspiring!” she hissed.  “I haven’t lost grip on reality and I am far from losing my sanity.  When Rumpel wakes, I promise to stop being a hermit.”

Snow grimaced.  “Of course.  We’re just worried about you.”

“Don’t, Snow.  I’m just fine.”

Belle stood there for long moments after her friends had gone, lost in thought.  Finally she moved to the trunk at the foot of the bed and flung it open, rummaging inside until she found what she’d been searching for.  Rumpelstiltskin had packed a great many of her books from the library without her knowledge and she was grateful for them, having already gone through most of the books available on the bookshelf in their room.  She didn’t want to have to ask Jefferson or Lancelot to raid the small library downstairs and she wouldn’t venture from her love’s side to fetch them for herself.  She read aloud to him every day, hoping that should he wake and hear her voice he’d know he wasn’t alone, that she was there with him, watching over him.

Climbing up on the bed, she fluffed her pillows against the headboard and settled back, smiling down fondly at her sorcerer.  “It would be nice if you’d stop being quite so stubborn, my love.  I know you’re tired and I’m not trying to be selfish, but…I miss you terribly.”  She lifted the book in her hands and sighed.  “Well, how about another thrilling tale, hmm?” she asked, not expecting an answer, but asking anyway.  She’d developed a habit of talking to him, hoping that one day he’d finally respond.  Opening the cover, she began to read.  “The Iliad, by Homer,” she said softly and within moments she was lost to the adventure of Paris and Helen of Troy.

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

        Rumpelstiltskin drifted along in a deep violet fog, swirling and churning about him, obscuring his vision and keeping him from the one constant coherent thought in the confusion and insanity that threatened to drag him deeper into the abyss.  It was a jumbled mess of _Belle_ _…_ _protect_ _…_ _mine_ _…_ _love_ _…_ over and over amidst a haze of painful memories he’d thought long shoved into that box of things he’d rather forget at the back of his mind.  Belle, she was his light, his hope, his future and it propelled him forward, scratching, clawing, and fighting his way to the surface.  He needed her more than air, more than magic, more…

        He fought to remain perfectly still as he broke through the fog, his eyes flying open and his chest dragging in one lungful of air after another.  Power crackled along his nerve endings as it surged full and bright through his body and he felt rejuvenated and rested.  But where was he? He took in the dimly lit room and the open balcony covered only in insect netting to keep out the pesky creatures.  He searched his befuddled mind, trying to remember if he’d ever been here before and came up against a brick wall.  _Well, I’ll have to admit it’s better than waking in a dungeon._   A giggle rose in his chest, but he tamped it down, putting forth more effort into remembering.

        Slowly he took stock of his limbs, pinpricks of sensation creeping along his flesh sending signals to his brain and he sucked in a sharp breath as he felt an unfamiliar weight on his chest.  He made a fist, summoned his magic and opened his hand, five tiny orbs of light floating up to cast their muted glow over them. Belle.  _Belle_ _…_ _my Belle_ _…_ _bound_ _…_ _spell_ _…_ _mine_ _…_ _dagger_ _…_ _mistress_ _…_ _pain_ _…_ _love._   Suddenly it didn’t matter that he didn’t recognize his surroundings, as his memories flooded his mind.  Everything made sense now.  Belle was draped across his chest, her small hand tucked between his torso and arm, her lovely face hidden from him in the crook of his neck.

        His eyes closed as pleasure flooded his lithe form.  His Belle.  He’d fought his way back to her and there was nothing in his way to stop him from claiming her.  She was his by blood and magic and her own word and his heart swelled with love for her.  He turned his head toward her, burying his nose in the curls at her temple and inhaling deeply, her sweet floral scent of lilac, vanilla and roses assailing his senses.  His blackened nails trailed along her arm, curling over her shoulder, drawing a small moan from the back of her throat and she shifted, pressing closer to the warmth of his body as she reached for the blanket, pulling it up to her chin as goosebumps erupted over her flesh.

        “Belle,” he croaked, frowning at the sound of his own voice, raspy with disuse.  He cleared his throat and tried again, “Belle, love, waken up.”

        Belle groaned and cracked open one eye, looking towards the archway to see the first streaks of dawn lighten the sky with a dark pink glow.  She pressed closer to her sorcerer and settled in more comfortably to drift back to sleep.

        “Belle…”

        Her head shot up in alarm, her cerulean eyes wide as they met warm amber.  She was stunned speechless, simply staring up into eyes she’d begun to fear would ever open.  He cupped her cheek and a sob broke free from her throat as his thumb stroked over her lower lip.  She nuzzled into his touch and pressed a kiss to his palm, relief flooding through her and leaving her weak.

        She curled her fingers into his hair and pulled him forward, happy tears spilling over her lashes as she molded her mouth to his, kissing him for all she was worth.  “I thought I-I’d lost you,” she murmured against his lips.

        He pulled away before she could deepen the kiss and pressed his brow to hers, holding her tightly within the circle of his arms as he turned on his side.  “Never leave you, Belle…wife,” he said, searching her face nervously as he waited for the impact of that single word to settle over her.

        Belle lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to the thin scar on his wrist, answering, “Husband.  Blood magic is a powerful thing, hm?”

        “You knew?” he asked, chuckling.  “What am I saying? Of course you knew, my clever girl.”

        She cast him a devilish smirk, one brow arched.  “I had lots of time to think while you’ve been lazing away.”

        Rumpelstiltskin snorted and sat up against the headboard, dragging her with him, reluctant to release her.  “How long?” he asked, all signs of amusement leaving his countenance as he raked a hand through his hair.

        Belle didn’t even try to hide the information from him as she slipped from the bed and struck a match to light the candles next to the bed.  “Six weeks, three days,” she said, reaching for her dressing robe and pulling it on over her night gown.  “How do you feel?”

        “Surprisingly well, considering.”  His eyes narrowed as he watched her move to the door and throw the latch.

        “Percy…Percy!  Waken up, dear,” she said, shaking the knight to wakefulness.  She waved away his apologies, cutting him off.  “Hurry, have water brought up for a bath and food…lots of food.  Oh and tea; he’ll want tea. Rumpel’s awake, Percy!”

        “Milady, that’s wonderful news,” the knight said, beaming at the girl. 

        A door was flung open next door and a shaggy head poked out.  “What fresh hell is this?!” Jefferson muttered.  His eyes widened as he took in Belle’s blinding smile.

        “He’s awake, Jeff!” was all she said before she disappeared back into her suite, leaving him gaping behind her.

        Rumpelstiltskin was digging in their bottomless trunk when she returned a moment later, pulling out his black silk dressing robe and drawing it on over his arms to ward off the slight chill in the room.  He didn’t miss the shiver that wracked Belle’s petite frame and with a flick of his wrist a roaring fire erupted in the grate of the fireplce.  He paced before the hearth, his mind whirling, and his fingers steepled beneath his chin.  _Six bloody weeks!_

He cast Belle an irritated glance as she curled up in a chair next to the hearth and pulled a blanket over her lap to ward off the chill.  “Was that really necessary, dearie?”

        “Don’t _dearie_ me, Rumpelstiltskin; you know I hate that name,” she scolded.  She felt as though she would enjoy her elevated status as his wife, especially once they’d gotten through all their issues.  “And yes it was necessary.  You need to eat and bathe.”

        “The curse kept me hale and hearty during my incapacitation, Belle.  I don’t need you to mother me,” he snarked.

        “Pfft.”

        “Belle!”

        Her lips curled into an innocent smile.

        He growled low in his throat, realizing she’d get her way in the end.  She still held his dagger, after all.  Jefferson barged into the room before he could ask her to return it, his hair in wild disarray, his feet bare and wearing nothing but a shockingly purple dressing robe and garish orange sleeping pants.  He plopped on the settee with a yawn.

        “’Bout time you woke up.”

        Rumpelstiltskin arched a brow at him.  “By all means, next time you cast a complex spell, we’ll see how long you sleep.”

        Belle cleared her throat, determined to head them off before they could begin the first round of their usual bickering.  “What Jeff is trying to say is that he’s glad you’ve returned to us and he’s rather put out that there’s no tea.”

        Jefferson glared at Belle and then raised his gaze to the imp.  “She’s right.  We were all worried.  I hope you’re not planning on using that spell again.”

        Rumpelstiltskin shrugged.  “It may come in handy someday.  In the meantime, I locked it in the vault before we left the Dark Castle.  Belle and I are the only ones who can access it, so you needn’t worry, Hatter.”  His gaze swung between the two.  “Now who wants to fill me in on what’s happened while I’ve been asleep?”

        Jefferson opened his mouth to answer, but a knock at the door interrupted and Lancelot strode into the room, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword as he preceded the two maids over to the sitting area.  Rumpelstiltskin smirked as he watched one trembling maid set a tea tray on the low table, the teapot and china cups rattling.  The second was better at hiding her fear as she lowered a large tray laden with covered dishes to the polished surface.

        Rumpelstiltskin eyed the knight, his eyes narrow slits of amber.  “You did as I asked?”

        “I did, milord.  And I humbly ask to be released from my duty so I may begin my quest,” Lancelot asked formally.  He was anxious to begin his search for his true love in the hopes of finding happiness and the one woman who could break his curse.

        “What quest?” Belle asked, uncovering the dishes to reveal eggs, plump sausages, porridge and fruit.  It was enough to feed them all, but she was determined to see how much she could get into her beloved before she worried about herself and Jefferson would be taking breakfast with Grace.  The hatter poured tea into three cups while Belle filled a plate with the offerings.

        Lancelot grinned sheepishly at the Dark One’s consort who he’d gotten to know so well over the past weeks.  “Just a personal matter, milady.”

        “Oh, well then…I wish you good journey, Lance.  I hope you find what you seek.  And thank you,” she added, offering him a warm smile. 

The ancient knight lifted her hand and brushed a kiss to her knuckles.   “It was my pleasure, Lady Belle.”

Rumpelstiltskin sneered as he stepped forward and rescued Belle’s hand from Lancelot’s grip, not liking at all the way the knight was leering at _his_ Belle.  “Yes, dearie, that’s quite enough of that,” he snarked testily.  Lancelot bowed to them and left, Snow, dragging a yawning Charming behind her as she rushed into the room.  The mage rolled his eyes.  Was he to have no peace this morning?

Belle pursed her lips to hide her smile and urged him to sit.  “Sit and eat, Rum.  You’ve lost weight and it will help you get your strength back.”

“But, dearest—“

“Sit!”

Rumpelstiltskin sat immediately, having no choice as he was compelled to obey his mistress.  He bit back a snarl as she laid a linen napkin over his lap and handed him the plate.  _I’m really going to have to make it a priority to get that damn dagger back from her,_ he thought as he popped a sausage into his mouth.

Charming flopped down onto the sofa and pulled Snow down next to him, eyeing the Dark One warily.  “Does this mean we can proceed with Regina’s execution?” he asked Belle.

The sorcerer quirked a brow at the prince.  “Beg pardon?”

At the same time, Belle glared at Charming.  “I haven’t had a chance yet to explain, you dolt!”

Jefferson grinned and sipped his tea.  “Rum, you should’ve seen it.  She was tied to the stake in the center of the bailey and just glorious in her rage.”

“WHAT?!” The Dark One hissed, his breakfast forgotten.

“Eat, Rum,” Belle said, smiling softly as he did as she asked.  She hated to leave him no choice, but he was still recovering and he would have plenty of time for his plots and schemes after he’d eaten.

Snow rubbed wearily at her brow, closing her eyes and praying for patience.  “That was before Belle found out and asked for a stay of execution for Regina as her price.”

Charming yawned again, wishing there was another cup available for him to partake in the tea.  He leveled the imp with a steely glance, and said, “But now that you’re awake, we should be able to proceed with ridding the kingdom of the queen’s threat.”

“I still don’t think we need to kill her, James.”  She looked at Rumpelstiltskin, a small spark of hope lighting her emerald eyes.  “Isn’t there some way we can strip her of her power instead of putting her to death?  How much of a threat could she be if she couldn’t wield her magic?”

Jefferson snorted over the rim of his cup.  “Regina without her magic? She’d probably prefer death.”

Rumpelstiltskin grimaced as Belle began refilling his empty plate, mumbling, “Belle, please, not so much.”  But he continued to eat, filling the hollowness he felt in his gut from going without for so long.  She nodded and sat on a low stool near his feet to slowly devour the bowl of fruit in her hands.  He turned his attention back to the royals.  “And what of George?  Is he being troublesome as well?”

“He died on the battlefield,” Charming said, not an ounce of remorse in his voice for the man who’d caused him nothing but grief.  He might have been the only father the prince’s twin had ever known, but he was nothing more than a vicious, selfish despot in Charming’s eyes.

The sorcerer set his plate on the tray and sat back, steepling his fingers beneath his chin.  “So if I’m understanding this correctly, George was killed, Regina captured and imprisoned and sentenced to death, but Belle intervened, claiming her price to spare the queen until I woke.  Correct?”  Everyone nodded.  “Now instead of killing her, you would rather spare her but strip her of her power.  And you think I would be able to accomplish such a feat?”

“Well you _are_ the Dark One, after all,” Charming said condescendingly.

The imp’s eyes narrowed.  “I’d watch my tone if I were you, shepherd,” he snarled.  Belle rested her hand on his knee, and some of the heat left his gaze.  “Fine, I will think on it…how best to deal with your dilemma.  You’ll owe me a favor however,” he said with a satisfied giggle.  “Sure you’re willing to pay the price?”

Charming rolled his eyes, but nodded.  “Something reasonable, I hope.”

“Don’t worry, dearie, I guarantee it won’t be more than you’re able to pay.”

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

        Rumpelstiltskin leaned back against the rim of the tub and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.  The sandalwood scent of the bubbles surrounding him in the steaming water made him smirk and shake his head.  _Bubbles?  Really, dear one?_   His muscles ached from disuse and his head throbbed from having to start the morning off with a visit from the Charmings when all he’d wanted was time alone with his Belle.  He’d been relieved when they’d left, Charming’s stomach growling like a rabid chimera, muttering something about unreasonable sorcerers and missing his breakfast.

        He rotated his head, wincing as the bones in his neck popped loudly.  Sinking deeper into the water, he listened to the soft sounds of Belle padding about the room.  Her voice was as comforting as wind chimes echoing on a summer breeze as it came to him.  “So have you decided what you’re going to do about Regina?  I know she’s important to you, I just haven’t been able to decipher enough of my dreams to learn why.”

        “What dreams?” he asked, the icy hand of dread clutching his heart in an iron fist as her words registered.

        She draped a towel and a fresh pair of sleeping pants over the screen for him to use after his bath before she answered.  “I seemed to have gained access to your memories when we bonded,” she said timidly.  “I’ve been dreaming about Regina and some purpose you have for her…specifically.”  She poked her head around the screen.  “Does it have anything to do with your son?”

        “Belle!”

        “Sorry, sorry,” she cried, disappearing around the screen once more.  “I just find it difficult to have this conversation through a screen.  Besides, if I’m your wife as you claim me to be, there’s nothing wrong with me seeing my husband at his bath!”  She lowered her voice and mumbled, crossing her arms over her bosom, “Who knew the great Rumpelstiltskin was shy.”

        “I heard that!”

        “Are you denying it?”

        The only answer she received was the water sloshing as he rose from the tub and the towel being whipped off the screen.  The pants were next, followed by his dressing robe.  He was still toweling his hair dry when he emerged from behind the screen, refusing to meet her eyes.  “You _are_ my wife.”  He flipped the towel back over the screen and took her hand, brushing a soft kiss to the faint scar on her wrist.

        Belle stepped forward into the circle of his arms, wrapping her own around his waist as she relished his touch.  “And I’m glad to be so.  Just don’t shut me out, ok?  I know it’s difficult, but please, just try?”

        He nodded, his eyes hooded, but it was the best he could offer.  He did trust her, or was beginning to trust her which was a major step for him, but if he were to share his life with her…his very immortal life…he would have to begin somewhere.  “I will try, my Belle, for you.”  Her smile was reward enough and he didn’t protest as she tugged on his hand, pulling him toward to bed.

        His heart beat a wild tattoo against his ribs as he watched her climb up onto the mattress and lay back against the pillows.  “Well?  Aren’t you coming?”

        “Um…I…ah…”

        “Rumpel, get on the bed so we can talk.  I have so many questions and it’s been so long since I was able to hear your voice.  Please?”

        He laid down beside her on his side, facing her, but keeping his distance.  He wanted to touch her so badly, but she was right.  There were too many things between them that needed to be settled.  He decided it would be best to get the issue of Regina out of the way first.  “I think I may have a way for Snow to see for herself that Regina will never stop trying to destroy her, a test, if you will.  Snow really wants her step mother to give up on her revenge, but I don’t see that happening.  Whether she has her magic or is rendered powerless, Regina will never give up.

        Her eyes narrowed, crinkling at the corners as she studied him.  His avoidance of her gaze, the tight lines of stress at the corners of his mouth and the tense set of his shoulders, all familiar clues to show her he was still withholding himself from her.  “Which is what you want.  You want Regina to be desperate enough for…that’s what I can’t seem to figure out.”

        “To cast my curse,” he said, finally meeting her gaze.

        “Your curse?”

        “To bring us all to a land without magic.  I need to find my son, Belle, and this is the only way.”  And once the words left his mouth, there was no stopping the flood.  He told her everything he’d done in his quest to find Baelfire and the creation of the curse.  When he was done, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest and he was able to breathe easy for the first time in centuries.

        Belle had one question.  “Will we be together in this new land?”

        He huffed an incredulous laugh.  “That’s what you’re concerned about?  You’re not going to yell at me?  Accuse me of being a monster for ripping the realms apart just to reunite with my son?”

        She was silent a long moment, choosing her words carefully.  “I don’t approve of your methods, but I understand the need you have to make things right with your son.  I’ve been privy to your memories, your innermost thoughts and feelings.  I know the remorse, the guilt you’ve lived with, no matter how noble your intentions.  So yes, if you’re going to do this, I need to know that I will be with you.  I can’t lose you, Rumpel.”

        “You won’t, I promise.  No matter where we are, we are bound.  I’ll not leave you, but—“  He brushed a lock of hair from her brow, his fingers trailing along the side of her face, his voice soft as he asked, “Why?  I could have spared you this if you’d just left when I let you go.  Why would you willingly accept the darkness that surrounds me like a cloak, Belle?  Why did you come back?”

        Tears glistened in her eyes as she gazed back at him, never having seen such vulnerability on his face before.  There was no trace of the dark entity which dwelled within him, only the man…the man he’d always been, the one buried deep within who believed no one could ever love him but hoped nonetheless. 

        She cupped his cheek and he closed his eyes at the simple gesture, reveling in her touch.  A lone tear spilled over her lashes to trail over her cheek as she whispered, “I came back because I love you, Rumpelstiltskin.”  Pain, disbelief and a myriad of other emotions played across his face as he pulled away from her, rolling over onto his back, staring up blankly at the canopy above them as he tried to process her confession.  Not exactly the reaction she’d hoped for, but nothing less than what she’d anticipated.  She sighed deeply.  “You don’t believe me.”

        “You have no idea how much I want to, sweetheart, but in my entire existence, only one person has ever been able to love me…my son, Bae…and I managed to ruin that as well,” he said brokenly, his throat tight with emotion and refusing to let the words come easily.  “It is enough that you’re my wife.”

        Belle reached down and lifted the hem of her robe and night dress, revealing her thigh, bare but for her garter holding the kris.  She removed the dagger and laid it gently on his chest, taking his hand and wrapping it about the handle.  His eyes flew to her face in surprise, but she was already moving away, her feet carrying her in hurried steps to the open balcony, into the sunlight where she belonged.  She was a creature of light and he was selfish for wanting to keep her in the darkness with him.

        Cursing himself for ten kinds of fool, he banished the kris back to its hiding place and followed her out onto the balcony, blinking against the harsh bright sunlight.  His bare feet warmed against the stones as he stepped up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders.  He had no idea as to what to say; the great Dark One at a loss for words, but he knew he had to say _something_ _…_ anything…to right what was wrong between them.

        “Belle?” he began, his tone cautious.

        “Are you feeling well enough to help Snow with her dilemma?  I’d really like to go home and I know we can’t leave until this is settled,” she said, bravely lifting her chin and staring out over the waters of the lake.  She was outwardly calm, yet her inner self nearly vibrated with seething rage at his rejection.  She needed him to give her some space to come to terms with what to do next and sending him to settle the Charmings’ problem with the dethroned queen would give her the time she needed.

        “Yes, I believe so.  It shouldn’t take me long.  Will you be ready to depart when I return?” he asked, sensing the turmoil within her and dropping his hands from her shoulders to take a step back.

        She nodded, still not looking at him, not wanting him to see how badly he’d hurt her.  She’d wait until they were safely back within the walls of the Dark Castle where she would insist he claim his price and let him see for himself once and for all that she did indeed love him to the very deepest depths of her soul.  For the first time since she’d been shown to the suite, she was alone.  Her sorcerer was well again, off to make another deal.  A sob tore from her throat as she realized he didn’t need her, not truly and she had never felt more alone in her life.

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

        Of course Regina had failed the little test he’d devised for Snow on an epic scale.  Nothing more than he’d expected.  Now the queen had been stripped not only of her throne, but she was now powerless to bring harm to the Charmings in this land.  It would be a simple matter to maneuver her into enough desperation to be ready to cast his curse, but that could wait.  For once, he pushed all thoughts of his curse to the back of his mind to focus on something besides his own wants and desires.  His beloved Belle was hurting and he had to try to find some way to restore what had been broken between them.

        His scowl deepened as he turned the corner and ran into Jefferson, Grace at his side and a small portmanteau balanced precariously on his shoulder.  “Leaving so soon, Hatter?”

        “I’d hardly call it soon, Rum.  We’ve been here for six weeks waiting for you to wake, so now that you have, I think it’s time to return home,” he said, smiling fondly down at his daughter.  “Gracie, why don’t you run along and say goodbye to the princess.  I’ll be right along.”

        Grace skipped off down the corridor and Jefferson lowered the small trunk.

        “What could have possessed you to want to remain for so long?  And don’t give me that crap about waiting for me to wake up?” the imp growled, giving the man an appraising look.

        Jefferson grinned widely, showing his perfect teeth.  “Oh I didn’t do it for you, old friend, I did it for Belle.  She needed all the support she could get.”

        Rumpelstiltskin eyed him with suspicion, hating when he was caught at a disadvantage of not knowing what was going on.  “What are you on about?”

        The hatter scoffed, “She didn’t tell you she hasn’t left that room since the night of the spell?  That she refused to leave your side?  She was terrified you’d wake up while she was gone and didn’t want you waking in strange surroundings or to believe she’d abandoned you.  Belle loves you; she’s completely devoted to you.  If it weren’t for me, Gracie, Snow and the wolf girl, I would have seriously worried for her sanity.”

        The mage couldn’t hide his discomfort from the one man who dared call him friend, shifting uncomfortably under the hatter’s steady gaze.  “She…ah…she didn’t leave for a moment?  Maybe you just didn’t see her.”

        Jefferson smacked his palm over his face in an effort to stop himself from throttling the Dark One.  “Aw hell, Rum, what have you done now?”

        “What makes you think I’ve done anything?” he asked defensively.

        “Because I _know_ you!  Damnit, now I know why her eyes were all red as if she’d been crying when I visited her to say goodbye.”  He shook his head sadly.  “You hurt her, didn’t you?”

        Rumpelstiltskin grimaced and held his fingers up less than an inch apart.  “Perhaps just a wee bit?”

        “You’re not sure?!  Couldn’t you have hung around to find out?  What the hell is wrong with you?”

        The sorcerer bit back the urge to turn the hatter into something squishable and glared menacingly, not wanting to face the fact that he had indeed hurt his Belle.  She was Jefferson’s friend as well, so he could understand the fit of temper the man was experiencing on her behalf.  “Watch the tone, Hatter, and remember who you’re talking to.”

        “Fine!  But whatever you’ve done, I advise you to make amends.  And if you can’t, tell her I’ve got a spare bedroom she’s more than welcome to use.”  With that, he hefted the trunk and strode off angrily down the corridor, leaving his friend to feel even worse for hurting the girl they both loved each in their own way.

        His mood only worsened when he entered the suite he shared with Belle to find the Charmings and Red saying their goodbyes to Belle.  “We’ll miss you,” Snow was saying as he leaned a shoulder casually against the archway leading out onto the balcony.  “And you know you’re welcome to visit anytime you wish.”

        Belle smiled and returned Snow’s embrace.  “I will.  And it won’t be that long before I return for the wedding.”

        “Says who?” the imp asked, smirking as he stared at the royals.

        Belle didn’t even turn to look at him.  “Rumpel,” she said, that one word quelling another bout of sarcasm from falling from his lips.

        Charming brushed a light kiss to her knuckles and leaned forward to whisper.  “Thank you, milady, for helping us.  I know he wouldn’t have lifted a finger without your encouragement.  You know you’re more than welcome to stay with us for as long as you like.”

        Belle arched a brow at him and shook her head.  “Thank you for the kind offer, Your Highness, but I must decline.  I’m ready to go home with my husband.  And you really should try getting along with him.  I’m certain this won’t be the last time you have need to call upon him.”

        A grimace twisted his features as he dropped her hand and stepped back, knowing she was probably right.  Red took her turn and hugged Belle tightly, casting her a toothy grin.  “I’ll come see you soon, ok?” she whispered in Belle’s ear, glaring over the shorter woman’s shoulder at the Dark One, her eyes flashing with a golden light, a warning to him not to hurt her new friend.

        “I’d very much like that, Red,” Belle said warmly.  When they’d gone, Belle did a walkthrough of the suite to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.  “Rumpel, I believe I’m ready,” she said, finally giving him her attention.

        “Oh, remembered I was here, did you?” he groused.  He strode forward, mumbling under his breath, “Inviting lycans to my home…

“Our home,” she stated firmly.

“…making plans to visit nobles for gods only know how long and I’m just expected to go along with it.”

        Belle ducked her head and bit back a grin before slipping her arms about his waist.  “Do you really wish to do this now?”

        He continued to grumble as he lifted their trunk by the handle and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders.  “No I suppose not, dear.  It will keep.”

 

X*X*X*X*X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was SUPPOSED to be the last chapter. I wrote the entire thing all the way to the end…and THEN!!!! …my beta says to me. “You cannot post a 14K word chapter when all the others are 7K. You must be consistent.” HER FAULT!!! Therefore, since the final chapter is with my beta still, the final chapter will be posted as soon as I get it back. Sorry sorry sorry!!! Hope you like this chapter and will stick around for the last. I look forward to hearing what you think. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing…xoxoxox


	7. Chapter 7

        Belle coughed as the violet smoke dissipated, revealing the dim interior of Rumpelstiltskin’s bedroom… _their_ bedroom, if she had anything to say about it.  The trunk vanished from his hand, and she was certain its contents had been put in their proper places, leaving her nothing to do to distract her from her melancholy thoughts.  He stepped away from her awkwardly, dropping his arm from her shoulders.  She immediately missed his warmth and she hugged her arms about herself to ward off the chill.

        He noticed the gooseflesh that had erupted along her arms and snapped his fingers, a cheery welcoming fire springing to life in the hearth.  She arched a brow at him and he shrugged.  “Thought you might be cold.”

        She left him standing there at the foot of the bed, rubbing his fingers against his thumb, as he always did when he wanted to say something to her, yet he couldn’t find the words.  She held her hands out to the blaze and tried to breathe steadily.  He didn’t need to know how much he’d upset her with his rejection.  It wasn’t so much that he’d rejected her.  She knew he wanted her to be his wife.  He never would have consented to the spell otherwise.  No, what hurt the most was the fact that he hadn’t believed her when she’d professed to love him.  Even though she’d been expecting such a reaction, that hadn’t helped to make it any less painful.

        Belle tensed slightly as his arms slipped around her waist from behind, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder.  “I’m sorry,” he said contritely.  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

        “No matter, my husband,” she said bitterly.  “Every woman yearns to tell her husband she loves him and have him not believe it.  I’ll get over it.”

        Rumpelstiltskin winced hearing such harsh words come from her sweet mouth.  “Belle-”

        She pushed out of his embrace and moved to the double doors standing open that led out into the corridor.  “I need to go get dinner started,” she said.

        “To hell with dinner,” he roared, slamming the doors with a blast of magic before she could reach them.

        She whirled on him, her eyes flashing hotly.  “You need to eat.  You’ve been incapacitated for a month and a half and-”

        “Woman, you try my patience!”

        “And you’ve tried mine from the moment I set eyes on you!  It’s about time you had a taste of your own medicine,” she shouted back.  “At least I’ve never called you a liar.”

        “Belle, I never called you a liar,” he said in exasperation, raking his dark nails through his long hair.  “I-”

        “Why haven’t you claimed your price?  Why haven’t you opened the link between us that our bond created?” she cried, angry tears streaming down her face that she didn’t even bother wiping away.  “Why are we fighting when you could be making love to me?”

        His mouth fell open in surprise. If his odd skin had allowed for it, he’d no doubt be as white as a sheet.  “Oh Gods!” was all he managed to say before he was there before her, gathering her in his arms and crushing her sobbing form to his chest, his hands smoothing over her back as he tried to soothe her.  “I’m sorry.  I merely wanted to spare you, dearest.”

        Her hands fisted in his brocade vest and she sobbed harder.  “I don’t want to b-be spared, R-Rumpel.  I want you; all of you.  I have your memories, your thoughts, _and_ your feelings. They all came spilling out the night of the spell.  Why won’t you give me your heart too?”

        His lips ghosted over her temple as he closed his eyes against the pain that threatened to crush him.  “You’ve always had it, Belle,” he whispered softly into her hair.  “I love you so much.”

        “Y-You love me?” she asked, her gaze swinging up to meet his. 

        Swallowing around the lump of emotion in his throat, he willed her to see the truth in his eyes, the truth that he’d had such a difficult time admitting even to himself.  “How could I not?  You’re brilliant and beautiful and…perfect,” he finished lamely, unused to expressing himself in such a way.

        Cradling his face in her warm palms, she pulled his head down to meet her lips, kissing him sweetly, almost chastely.  “Show me?” she asked, her voice no more than a whisper against the corner of his mouth.  “Open our link, look into my heart and let me in, Rumpel.  Please,” she begged.  “Don’t be afraid to let me love you.  My heart won’t lie to you, my love.  Claim your price.”

        His price, he thought ruefully.  The night of the spell when he’d opened the link for her to bond with him, he’d felt it only right for her to have access to his thoughts and feelings, his memories.  But he hadn’t allowed himself to open the link on his end, too afraid to look into hers, to see what was truly in her heart.  Instead he’d focused all his energy on the casting of the spell, buying himself just a little more time before she insisted that he claim his price, her end of the deal.  It didn’t matter that he gave of himself, during their binding as an added bonus.  If she could so willingly barter away her thoughts and feelings in a deal, he could sacrifice his own to her.

        His hand trembled in hers and she raised it slowly to rest against her heart, terrified of what he’d see.  He’d always been a coward, but the fear he’d experienced in the ogre wars, or even the fear he’d felt when facing the previous Dark One, was nothing in comparison to what he was feeling now.  When he opened the link, he would see every memory, every emotion and feeling she’d ever had. He wondered if he was strong enough to withstand the pain he was certain he’d feel when he witnessed the first she had of him.

        Belle reached up and pressed a kiss to his parted lips, whispering encouragingly, “Don’t be afraid. I love you; I’m yours.  Feel me, Rumpel.”

        Drawing in a shaky breath, he staggered under the onslaught of her mind and heart as he opened the link.  Belle held on tightly to the hand that covered her heart and reached out to grab his elbow, lending him some much needed support.  Her childhood flew past his eyes in a blur, slowing a bit during key moments that were more important to her than others.  He felt her horror and then grudging acceptance over her engagement to Gaston, the fear and hopelessness over the encroaching horde of ogres that threatened her kingdom, and hope and faith in _him_ when he’d been summoned, that he would surely help them.  He slammed the link closed, opening his eyes, the warm amber orbs pleading with her to let him stop.

        “Don’t stop, Rumpel,” she said, smiling tenuously up at him.  “Don’t stop.”  She felt it when he’d broken the connection and she knew it was too soon.  He needed to see it all.  “I watched every memory you shared with me and it didn’t change the way I feel about you,” she whispered, her thumb drawing soothing circles over the back of his hand.  “Don’t be afraid.”

        The tightness in his chest was making it hard to breathe, but he didn’t want to disappoint her.  He needed to be brave…for _her_ , for his Belle.  She’d sacrificed so much to be with him, a monster of legend. She could have hadan honorable husband, children of noble birth, her rightful place in society…she gave up _everything_ to be with _him._ He could do no less than honor her wishes.  He reopened the link, her shining face reflecting her curiosity at the strange creature come to save them all, but not the revulsion he’d expected.  His knees crumpled in relief and he dragged her down to the thick carpet with him, but he didn’t close the link.  He felt her fear of the unknown as he brought her home to the Dark Castle, her anger at being locked away in the dungeon, her homesickness at being separated from her loved ones…

        “Belle…” he whimpered.

        “Keep going.”

        Hope when she’d dropped the cup and he had acted as if it were nothing, pride when he’d spared the thief.  Pride?  She’d been proud of him?  Kindness, compassion and tenderness as they slowly became better acquainted, those feelings deepening as they spent more and more time together.  Fear, relief, gratitude… and something he’d never expected…Desire as he’d caught her in his arms as she’d fallen from the ladder.  Then he’d sent her into town, never expecting her to return and her confusion and heartache left him gasping.  He’d hurt her by granting her freedom.  She hadn’t wanted to leave him, had always planned to return.

        Rage enveloped him like a shroud and he growled, the sound dark and feral as it erupted from him, his eyes flying open and pinning her with his dark gaze.  “Regina!” he barked, startling a gasp from his wife.

        Belle reached out to him, pressing a finger gently to his lips.  “Focus, darling.  Watch and feel me.  Feel what I feel,” she whispered fervently, drawing him deeper into her memories.

        He seethed and cursed as he watched Regina try seemingly in vain to turn Belle against him. He relaxed as he felt the distrust and wariness that had warned his little dearie against listening to the queen’s lies.  Instead of coming back to him with the express purpose of trying to do away with his curse, she’d hidden herself away in the library for days on end, searching for information on his cursed state so she wouldn’t inadvertently banish the Dark One to oblivion.  The demon purred loudly in the far recesses of his mind, pleased with the girl.  It was then, after finding her answersthat she’d realized just how much she wanted him, loved him.

        Belle had made up her mind that she’d never find another who made her heart sing as he did, who valued her mind and her opinion and didn’t see her as a mere possession.  Her love radiated from her, wrapping around him and pouring into his very soul, leaving him breathless and trembling, never having felt anything so powerful…not even his magic. 

        The events leading up to the spell flashed by until the night it had been cast and she’d been left alone with the Dark One with only the power of the kris to protect her against the demon.

        The demon’s taunting words and lustful pawing at his beloved Belle enraged him further and his eyes snapped open again to peer at her neck where she’d been bitten.  Her hair fell over her right shoulder, obscuring his view as it had been since that morning when he’d finally awoken.  Brushing aside, he howled in fury and pulled her against his chest, turning her head to the side to look more closely at the thin silver outline of his teeth.

        “It’s nothing, Rumpel,” she said softly, trying to reassure him. 

        A ragged whimper escaped his throat and he could feel the sting of tears at the corners of his eyes.  “I failed you.”

        “Never.  Nor will you ever,” she breathed against the shell of his ear as he lowered his lips to the scar and brushed a kiss to her damaged flesh.

        As soon as his eyes closed against the burning threat of tears, he delved back in through the link and witnessed her devotion and care for him while he’d been catatonic.  He trembled as she held him to her as he had to watch her cry night after night, begging, pleading, for him to return to her.  She read to him, talked to him, and slept at his side, refusing to leave him for a moment.  The strongest emotions he felt from her in those memories was a fear that he would never come back to her and the truest, purest love she felt for him with every fiber of her being. 

        True Love.  The concept of his precious girl so consumed with such a powerful emotion…for _him_ …burned through the darkness that clawed at his soul and left a crater in the walls protectively surrounding his heart.  No one had ever loved him the way his Belle did, not his father, nor his first wife, not even his son.  He had no doubts that Bae loved him, but it was different.  There were no words eloquent enough to describe what Belle’s love made him feel and he felt like the biggest cad to ever walk the realms to have scoffed at her sweet profession of love.  To think he’d schemed and maneuvered the Charmings into position on his chessboard to bring them together, to collect hair from each of them in order to formulate his True Love potion and he’d had his own True Love right there under his nose the entire time.  If his own emotions weren’t roiling in turmoil, he was certain he’d be laughing like a madman at the irony.

        Belle shivered as she felt his magic release her mind and heart from its icy tentacles, leaving only his love to flow through their open bond and envelop her in its warmth.  She petted his hair soothingly as he pulled her closer and held on as if he thought she’d flee from him at any moment.

        Rumpelstiltskin raised his head from her shoulder, capturing her gaze with one so filled with remorse it tore at her heart.  “I’m so sorry, Belle.  So sorry I didn’t believe you,” he whispered, pressing his face into her palm as she cupped his cheek, his lips grazing gently over her warm flesh.  “So sorry.”

        “Shh, darling,” she cooed, brushing a light kiss to his lips.  “You believe me now; that’s all that matters.  This is why I didn’t tell you the first time you asked why I’d returned to you.  You weren’t ready to hear it, my love.”

        He was so broken, still so afraid to love.  Taking her hands in his, holding them between them, he said, “Belle, I don’t know if I can change, to be the man you envision in your heart.  I-”

        “I don’t want you to change, Rumpel.  You are already that man.  I don’t want you to change and become a shoddy imitation of the man I fell in love with.  I love you just as you are,” she vowed, desperation in her soft voice as she resolved to make him believe her.

        Her love pulsed through their bond, leaving him breathless and a bit dizzy.  He would disappoint her eventually.  How could he not?  But he would endeavor to make her as happy as possible until that day came.  “It won’t be easy, sweetheart.  I’m a difficult man to love,” he said, ducking his head, his hair falling over his eyes.

        Belle chuckled softly as she brushed his curls aside and tilted his chin up so he’d have to meet her steady gaze.  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said, smiling coyly.  “I find it very easy to love you.”  She swallowed his little whimper as she pressed her lips to his, her tongue tentatively darting out to taste the seam of his mouth.

        She gasped as he crushed her to his chest and it was his tongue that delved hotly into her mouth, gliding sinuously along her own.  With the open bond between them, she could feel his passion, his overwhelming desire for her, his need for her touch and it made her heart beat a wild tattoo against her ribs.  The most delicious heat coiled tightly in her belly and dropped lower into the apex of her thighs, making her squirm restlessly against him.  He kissed her slowly, gently, taking his time and great care in the exploration of her mouth, leaving no crevice untouched, each press of his tongue bringing her pleasure.

        When the need to breathe became too much, he pulled away from her swollen lips and trailed hot open-mouthed kisses along her jaw to nip lightly at her ear, his hot breath causing a shiver to ripple over her spine and more heat racing through her blood.  Her hands splayed over his chest, sliding down to work on the gold clasps on his vest, freeing them and pushing it off his shoulders.  He caught her hands in a firm grip as her fingers began working on the buttons of his shirt, his worried gaze searching her face.

        “Are you sure, sweetheart?” he asked, fighting to control the lust surging through him.  He could feel her desire through the bond, yet he still needed to hear her say it.

        Another button popped free and she smiled.  “Yes.  I want you, Rumpel,” she said, leaning forward to claim his mouth again, her teeth nipping sharply at his lower lip.  He growled low in his throat, pulling her into his arms and rising to his feet, carrying her bridal style to their bed.  But he didn’t lay her down against the cool silk duvet, instead sitting her on his lap and kissing her slowly, taking his time.  She freed the last button and let the silk drop away from him to pool on the bed at his hips, sighing happily now that she could touch and caress his bare skin.

        A ragged moan dragged itself from him as her fingertips brushed lightly over his flat nipples and the breath hitched in her throat to see his face twisted in pleasure so acute it was almost painful.  He looked wrecked, completely enthralled by her and it thrilled her to know that she had done that to him.  His arms wrapped about her hips and pulled her forward against his straining erection pressing so hotly against her thigh, the heat of him burning her through her heavy skirt.  His blackened nails scraped over her nape as he wrapped the long swath of her hair around his forearm and gently tugged her head back, exposing the creamy expanse of her throat, but he stilled before his lips met her flesh.

        Belle opened her eyes to find him staring at the bite mark on her neck in dismay.  His troubled gaze flicked up to meet hers as she cupped his cheek, her thumb playing softly over his bottom lip.  “You… _he_ …didn’t hurt me, Rumpel,” she breathed huskily.  “It’s nothing.”

        “If I had been more cautious…If I had woken sooner…Damnit, Belle, I left you in danger,” he growled, tracing over the thin scar his teeth had left.

        She knew she had to do something to pull him back from his guilt before his self-loathing manner took over and the mood was lost.  She leaned forward and bit into his shoulder, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to elicit a lusty yowl from him.  She suckled the bruised flesh and smiled as she laved it with her tongue before trailing her lips along his neck to his ear to whisper, “Now you have one to match.” 

        The grip he had on her hair tightened as he pulled her head back and buried his face against the crook of her neck, his teeth scraping over her scar.  “Gods, woman, where did you learn to do that?” he asked, rasping his tongue over the mark.

        “W-We have m-more than one or two books in our library unsuitable for my delicate sensibilities,” she teased, keening loudly as he nipped at her collarbone and across the hollow of her throat, the heat his lips and tongue and teeth evoked in her sending tiny shock waves to her nerve endings.  And he hadn’t even moved to undress her yet.

        Her husband hummed in approval as his teeth caught in the ties of her corset style bodice and pulled, the silk giving way as he unlaced her.  Another tug and one sleeve slipped off her shoulder, baring more skin he felt he needed to taste.  Even through the overwhelming heat and desire coursing through her veins, she could feel his restraint in his every action.  So afraid to hurt her, he was, and the thought brought a sad little smile to her lips.

        Belle slipped off of his lap to stand before him between his legs, leaving him looking forlorn and unsure as his hands dropped to the bed to fist in the bedclothes.  She placed a swift kiss to his lips to reassure him and pulled the gown off her shoulders and over her hips until it pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her think white shift.  His eyes traveled her body with such intensity, it felt like a physical caress, his pupils so dilated very little of his irises remained.  He trembled as she ran her hands over his arms, from wrists to shoulders before delving into the curls at his nape and pulling him to her. 

        Rumpelstiltskin paused for only a moment before he grabbed her hips with a low moan and pressed her fully to him, leaving not an inch of space between them.  Belle nipped sharply at his bottom lip and he looked up expectantly.  “Stop holding back.”

        “I’m not,” he quickly assured her, pulling her atop him as he lay back against the mattress.  “I—“ her nails raking over his shoulders and down his chest cut off his protests.

        “Do you think I can’t feel it, Rumpel?  I’m not some coy maiden; I know how this works.  I won’t break,” she sighed against his lips as she kissed him gently.  “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to be with you like this.”

        “Belle…” he groaned, his hands ghosting over her sides and back as she wiggled lower, her nails and teeth and tongue trailing over his collarbone, his chest and lower over the flat plane of his abdomen.  “Innocent…don’t want to hurt…hurt you,” he gasped.

        “You won’t,” she said, her breath fanning out over his skin.  The muscles contracted in his stomach as her tongue swirled around his navel before dipping inside.  His hips bucked up against her, nearly unseating her and he bit his lip to stifle the inhuman howl that threatened to break free from his throat.  She smiled and nipped sharply at the skin below his navel just at the top of his waistband as her fingers sought to untie his laces.  She could feel his tightly wound control unravelling and giving way to his baser urges and a bit of wicked satisfaction surged through her, making her proud that she could do this to him, that she could make his self-control desert him with just the touch of her lips.

With a final tug, she tossed the laces over her shoulder and crawled back up to kiss him hard, not quite brave enough to free him from the confining leather.  “Do you think me wanton?”

        A laugh rumbled in his chest as he grabbed her about the waist and rolled her beneath him, kissing along her jaw.  “I think you a desert _houri_ sent to lure men to their deaths among the dunes,” he murmured, his nails scratching lightly over her breast and drawing a startled gasp from her.  “A siren who lures innocent sailors to a watery grave,” he whispered, tweaking her nipple through the thin fabric of her shift and then rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.  “I would die happy to spend one moment with you like this.”

        The fire burning in her belly erupted into white hot heat as his hand drifted lower over her hip and along the outside of her thigh, his callused fingertips causing a shiver to erupt along her spine.  She instinctively closed her legs as his nails skimmed over the hyper sensitive flesh of her inner thigh.  Instead of pushing her too far, too fast, he pulled on the thin silk ribbon holding her shift together over her breasts, parting the material and baring her to his view.  Her hands came up to cover herself and she flushed with embarrassment.  She’d never thought her breasts all that much to look at and she didn’t want to see disappointment in his eyes.

        He pressed a kissed to the back of her hand as he looked up to meet her gaze, his own heavy-lidded with desire.  “Beautiful,” he sighed, the one word chasing away her fears.  “Don’t hide from me, sweetling.”  The plea in his voice made her heart swell and slowly she uncovered herself, carding her fingers through his hair as he lowered his head to press a kiss in the valley between her breasts.

        Her husband worshipped her pale breasts with his lips, teeth and tongue, making her moan and writhe beneath him.  He sucked one taut nipple into his mouth, so much heat it sent little jolts of pleasure straight to the apex of her thighs as if there was an invisible thread joining the two.  He didn’t leave the other unattended, squeezing the soft globe and rolling it between his fingers.  She cried out as he pinched it just a bit too sharply only to sigh a moment later as his tongue rasped over it, his hand moving to the one he’d just abandoned.  So lost in the sensation and heat and lust and moans from both of them, she forgot to keep her legs clamped so tightly together, relaxing and freeing his hand where it had been trapped between her trembling thighs.

        Rumpelstiltskin groaned and shunted his hips forward involuntarily against her thigh to relieve the pressure in his groin as his hand closed over the nest of curls between her thighs.  His mouth closed over hers, drinking down the soft little cries she emitted as he dragged his finger over her dripping folds and delving within.  Her hot wet flesh closed over him and his own moans rivaled hers.  His heart thundered in his veins in rapid tempo with the throbbing in his cock and he had to bite down on his lip to maintain the tight control that was fighting to be loosed.

        Belle tossed her head, her back arching to be closer to the pressure in his hand as his fingers gently rubbed alongside her swollen clit.  She could feel the rising waves of something just out of her reach and her innate curiosity demanded to know what it was.  She only knew she needed him, just him.  Only he could give her relief from the burning desire that fought to overwhelm her and send her into madness.  A surge of love flooded through the bond and she screamed, her release leaving her shaking and breathless, her inner walls clenching and releasing the finger buried deep within her. He pressed soft kisses along the curve of her jaw as she rode it out, waiting for her to come down from her high.  It didn’t help his painful erection to feel her release through the bond, making the ache in his engorged cock all the worse.  With a whisper of magic, he banished his boots and confining leathers and breathed a small sigh of relief to be free and having his naked flesh pressed so intimately to hers.

        “Are you alright?  Do you want to stop?” he asked, his lips tracing over her eyes, her cheeks, the small indention of her top lip.  There were at the point of no return and he had to be certain this was what she wanted.  She would be more clear-headed after her pleasure had been sated.

        Belle skimmed her hand down his back and over his hip before her fingertips brushed his swollen shaft.  “More,” she whispered, cupping him in her small hand, her fingers curling around him as she swiped her thumb over the moisture at the tip.  He buried his face in the crook of her neck and bit gently to stifle his moan.  “I want all of you, Rumpel.”

        He took her wrist in a firm grip, moving her hand away from his turgid length, shifting until he was lying between her legs.  “Hold on to me, dearest,” he said, rubbing the head of his cock against her folds, coating himself with her moisture.  “Relax, love, don’t be afraid,” he whispered, hoisting her legs up over his hips until her heels pressed into the backs of his thighs.  He opened up the bond between them as wide as he could and sent a wave of pure desire into her, leaving her shaking and breathless as he shunted his hips forward until just the tip of him entered her.  “Belle?”

        “K-Keep going,” she moaned, never taking her eyes from him, trust, love and heady desire glimmering in their depths.  She shifted beneath him, lifting her hips and he pressed down into her, her walls adjusting, stretching to accommodate his size.  He stopped when he came up against her virgin barrier and she groaned, wanting the discomfort to be done with.  “Please, Rumpel,” she keened.

        He molded his lips to her, his tongue plunging into the hot recesses of her mouth as his hips snapped forward to claim her maidenhead.  He swallowed her soft cry, wincing as her nails scored his back and he groaned from the pleasure of being sheathed completely inside her.  Belle clasped him to her tightly, waiting for the burning to pass and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, smoothing her hand over the marks she’d make on his back.  After a tense moment, she took a deep breath and rubbed her foot over his calf, gasping when pleasure shot through her belly.  “Move, my love,” she sighed, feeling the familiar heat build up in her once more.

        Rumpelstiltskin searched her face for any sign of discomfort as he pulled out of her almost all the way before sliding back in, his brow furrowing in concentration as he moved within her.  He didn’t know what he could have ever done to deserve the love of the woman beneath him, but he found himself thanking a deity he had never truly believed in all the same.  The gift of her love, the honor of being the only man she would ever lie with was so unbelievable and precious it nearly brought him to tears.  He bit his lip as he lost his rhythm, his thrusts becoming erratic as she cried out, her folds fluttering around him, drawing him deeper, clutching him as she drew ever nearer to her release.  And then she tensed, her head thrown back, her spine curving in an arch as she lost herself to her pleasure.  The beast within him howled, every emotion he was capable of at that moment…love, desire, lust, tenderness…all surged through the bond as he thrust hard and fell over the edge, shattering and reforming in the arms of his cherished wife.

        He collapsed atop her and she reveled in his slight weight, holding tightly to him so he couldn’t move off of her.  He pressed lazy kisses to her shoulder as he panted.  “I love you, Belle,” he murmured, unable to even open his eyes.

        “L-Love you, my husband…forever,” she answered, her grip loosening enough for him to roll to her side and pull her into the circle of his arms.  She was so sated and her limbs felt liquid as she nestled at his side.

        He cleaned them up with a bit of magic, unsure if his legs would hold him if he tried to leave the bed.  He pulled the sheet over them, the room warm from the fire blazing in the hearth, the crackling of burning wood the only sounds in the room aside from their steady breathing.  A happy rumble of contentment sounded in his chest as he pulled her tightly against him and kissed the crown of her head, his last thoughts before falling into the comforting arms of slumber were those of hope…hope for their future and the love that not even a dangerous spell or his innate stubbornness could take from them.  His wife, his True Love, his hope…his Belle.

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

One month later…

 

        “I still can’t believe you’re dragging me off to this bloody wedding, Belle,” he grumbled as he propped his feet up on the edge of the dining table in the Great Hall.  He scowled down at the formal attire that fit snugly to his wiry frame and sighed.  “The shepherd doesn’t want me there anyway.  Scared I’m going to frighten all his guests away.”

        Belle stood before the large ornate mirror he’d enchanted for her to use, the spell ensuring that she couldn’t be spied upon, even by Regina who was an expert at mirror magic, and fastened the sapphire earrings to her lobes.  “Pfft.  We were invited and I will not disappoint Snow because you see fit to be an arse,” she snarked, arching a brow at him over her shoulder.  He could act like such a child when he got in one of his moods…usually when he wasn’t getting his way.

        “But, dearest, I could take you anywhere you wish to go,” he pouted.  “We could visit Agrabah.  You could go shopping in the Grand Bazaar!” he said, his features brightening at the idea.  “Or I could take you to Andrazia and buy you some of those delicious chocolates you fancy.”

        He drew in a sharp breath as she came to stand before him.  She was a vision in a deep blue sapphire gown, the long sleeves fitted into a point over her delicate hands.  The skirt was full and no doubt housed half a dozen petticoats to get it to fall so elegantly about her slender legs, but it was the square neckline revealing the tops of her breasts that had him growing painfully hard in the buff breeches he wore.  Suddenly he was glad she had talked him out of wearing his leathers.  She squealed as his arms snaked out and wrapped around her waist, pulling her onto his lap so he could nuzzle the sensitive spot just beneath her right ear just above the scar she wouldn’t let him heal for her.  She wanted to keep it as a reminder that she’d stood up to the demon and won.

        She sighed and looped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer.  “You’re incorrigible, darling.”

        “I know, but you love me anyway.  I’ll be puzzling over that one for at least a century,” he said, giggling softly.

        His hand gripped her hip, crinkling the fabric as he squeezed it affectionately.  “Stop, darling, you’re going to wrinkle my gown.”

        He nibbled gently at her lower lip and grinned roguishly.  “I’ll buy you a new one.” 

        “Thank you for agreeing to this, Rumpel.  I know you loath the thought of having to spend the evening in the company of so many nobles,” she said, brushing the hair away from his eyes.

        “I’m only going because you promised me a dance.”

        “I did indeed,” she said, her smile widening against his lips.

        “And I intend to collect, my lady wife.”  Before he could deepen the kiss, the wards rippled and the double doors leading from the foyer opened.  Belle peered around the high back of the chair and groaned inwardly, mouthing one word when he raised a questioning brow… _Regina._

        Rumpelstiltskin set her off his lap and rose to greet the queen, a smug smirk curving the corners of his mouth.  “Ah, your majesty.  To what do I owe the…well I can’t say it’s a pleasure now can I?”

        Regina rolled her eyes.  “I was bored and in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d pay you a call.”

        Belle schooled her features into a neutral mask and gestured to the tea tray on the end of the table.  “Would you care for a cup of tea, Regina?” she asked, refusing to address the former queen by her title.

        “Thank you,” Regina said, trying her best to remain civil with the Dark One’s wife to remain on decent terms with the imp.  Her dark eyes followed Belle as she moved off to sit on the settee next to the imp’s spinning wheel to sip her own tea.

        Rumpelstiltskin narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the queen.  “I’m surprised you aren’t on your way to Longborne, dearie.  I’d think you wouldn’t want to miss your stepdaughter’s wedding to her twoo wuv,” he said with an impish giggle.  “Not invited?” he asked, seeing her lip curl up in a sneer.  “Me neither, but my lovely wife insisted that I accompany her as her guest.  It will be so inspiring to see them declare their true love before the entire kingdom.  Happy ending after all.”

        Belle glared at her husband as he winked at her.  She knew exactly what he was doing, provoking the dethroned queen being his favorite pastime.

        Regina nearly snarled at him as she set her cup down on the table, tea spilling over the rim onto the polished surface.  “And because of you and the little implette, there’s nothing I can do to stop it.  Now way to harm them in this land ever again!”

        Belle rolled her eyes as his expression turned serious and sympathetic to the queen’s plight.  “Yes, yes, I suppose that’s true.  In this land.”

        Regina whirled on him, her eyes widening.  “What?!”

        Rumpelstiltskin smirked once again, smug as a cat with its paw on the mouse’s tail.  “The deal I made was quite explicit.  You can never harm them in _this land._   Now, were you to bring them to another land, well…” he trailed off, clasping his long fingers before him.

        Regina smiled triumphantly as his words sank in.  She could see all her dreams coming true in the very near future and with a little planning, it wouldn’t take her long to have everything in readiness to cast the Dark Curse.  “Belle, dear, thank you for the tea, but I really must be going.”  She shared a conspiratorial look with the imp and turned on her heel, hurrying out to her carriage.

        Belle arched a brow at her husband as she moved to stand at his side.  “Shame on you, Rumpelstiltskin.  Regina is going to crash Snow and Charming’s wedding and ruin it for them.”

        He slipped his arms about her waist and hauled her against his chest, kissing her soundly.  “I know, dearest, isn’t it delicious?” he asked, waggling his brows at her.  She giggled, unable to hide her amusement at his merriment.

        “I feel bad for everyone, having their happy ending stolen away from them while we’re to remain so blissfully happy.”

        His face fell at her pique and he nuzzled his nose against hers in a comforting gesture.  “It will be worth it if the curse will help us find Bae.”

        Her hand rose to caress his cheek and she smiled sadly.  “Yes, it will.”

        With a sigh, he stepped back and offered his arm to her so he could teleport them to the Charming’s palace on the lake.  “Perhaps this wedding won’t be quite as tedious as I’d previously thought.”

        “Really?”

        “Of course, sweetheart.  Regina will interrupt with her dire warnings of gloom and doom and…”

        “What?”

        “And I get to dance with my beautiful wife and be the envy of every man in the room.”  His lips claimed hers in a kiss filled with desire and a promise of passion to conclude their evening alone in the privacy of their bedchamber.  Come what may she was his and all because of the Dragon’s Breath.

 

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And that’s all folks! I hope you’ve enjoyed it, bc I have to say this is one of my new personal favorites. I hope you liked how I ended it. There was so much left unsaid about how the Charmings “took back the kingdom”, it left me lots of room to put my own personal Rumbelle spin on it and I really enjoyed writing this. I can’t wait to hear what you think about the ending. Thank you all so much for your patience during the time it took me to write this for you as I know you’re all anxiously awaiting updates on “Belle’s Journal” and “Love Letters”. So as a reward, I updated those as well! Xoxxoxoxox

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Well, once again I have failed to make a successful o/s. I’m apparently too long winded for a short piece. Lol. So here’s the first part. I’m already working on the second. So hopefully, I’ll have more for you either tonight or tomorrow. I would really love to hear what you think…good OR bad. Thanks for reading as always!


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